Lost Fragments
by Mandy-deshi
Summary: Story based on the '07 movie. The restoration of Jazz is incomplete with the Allspark fragment the Autobots posses, until they find a substitute...
1. Chapter 1

** Chapter One: Vault of Heaven**

"The sunsets here are stunning. Not quite like the ones back home, but it does bring around some nostalgia.." a strong and wisdom-filled voice sighed.

"Indeed Optimus." another voice replied, singing of memories. "Indeed."

Crimson reds, burning pinks, and soft yellows crowned the mighty golden sun like a king as he descended slowly in the horizon. He ended his powerful reign of the day with all the colors he could muster. He sat nearly opposite of his partner; the lovely moon. Stars heralded across the sky and twinkled with glee as their queen made her luminous entrance, for she demanded their attention once her partner departed. She was the ruler of the night.

"They're out there, in the blackness of space somewhere. And they are regrouping, if I know them well enough." Optimus' gaze trailed across the faint constellations, his eyes stopping to behold the moon. "I will send the signal again."

Ratchet had worked and fought alongside Optimus long enough to be close companions with him. Even long enough to help replace a good percentage of his parts and circuitry after some of their deadly encounters with the Decepticons. He needn't rely upon his sensors to detect what Optimus might be feeling. He knew it in his core. He was worried.

"Look Ratchet!" Optimus suddenly bursted, pointing a finger at the heavens. Right across the moon, a silver streak of light flashed as some object traveled through the atmosphere.

"Activating telescope vision..." Ratchet answered as a whirring circular device covered his eyes. He remained hopeful that one of their comrades might have heard Optimus' signal and was arriving. But once his vision zoomed close enough to get a reading, it had vanished.

"It's gone..." he replied as the device lifted away from his eyes. "I'm sorry Optimus, it seems to have burned up in the upper layers of the atmosphere before I could get a reading."

"It must have been a meteorite." his shoulders faintly drooped, though his steady eyes never left the sky. "Or what the humans like to call it; a shooting star."

The stars grew brighter, along with the moon as her dominance over the heavens was complete, her partner's rays faded and gone. She smiled secretly down upon the Earth.

"I've become too anxious Ratchet. I believe the boy and his kind may have rubbed off on me more than I suspected." he sighed. "Don't you think so?"

Ratchet allowed a small chuckle and patted his old friend on the shoulder. "Do not let it concern you so. Our integration into the human world has been an-" he paused, "enlightening experience, nonetheless. You remember that trick Sam taught us? Wheelies, I believe?"

Optimus laughed. "Yes, but I don't think the other humans seemed to enjoy it as much as we did. And Ironhide didn't approve."

"Neither did I at first." replied Ratchet with a grin. "But the young ones do have a way of reminding us how to have fun once in awhile."

"Our search for the Allspark was a testing time for all Autobots, and so we had to put our duties first until they were complete. We simply had no room for fun." he admitted.

"And speaking of the Allspark, how has the restoration process on Jazz been going?" Optimus turned to face Ratchet with concern.

Ratchet's gaze did not meet his. He knew he would be asked this question, but he did not want to see his commander worry about more matters that were utterly out of his hands. But he needed to know... "So far, I have been able to reassemble Jazz's body without much trouble. The girl has provided me with sufficient parts and tools, and I have altered the rest to be functional. And as you know, I have spent many days researching the Allspark fragment, trying to fully understand it's powers and the secrets it contains...But it is a fragment Optimus. Only a part of the puzzle, a page from a book, a star in a constellation." He now stared into the blue orbs of his commander. "I was able to restore 17 of Jazz's functions but that is all, I fear. That's all I can do with the piece that we posses."

The commander of the Autobots was silent for long moments. His silhouette was framed against the dome of city lights in the distance as darkness enveloped the wooded hill in which they stood upon. But even in shadows, his presence was strong. He was their leader, and so he must decide the fate of his companion. Should he allow him to live, what with the tiny bit of life that the Allspark fragment was able to restore? He would be able to partly comprehend what was said to him, but communication and movement would be near impossible for him. Would that be too cruel? Optimus knew Jazz as an Autobot who lived to the fullest, no bars or restrictions, and to hell with danger. Would he want this, a half-life? No, it wasn't even a half-life...

His deep train of thought was drowned out by the thunderous roaring of an engine approaching them. Quickly hiding behind a patch of large, bushy trees, they awaited to see the source of the noise. Headlights flared up the hill as a yellow Camero sped closer. From the looks of it, they were in quite a rush.

"Bumblebee..." Rachet mumbled as he stepped aside from the tree.

A car door thrust open and a boy emerged from the car, nearly stumbling in his haste. "Ah! Rachet! Guys! Hey, we found something!! Something real big!!" He waved his arms excitedly to emphasize his words.

"What is it Sam?" Optimus leaned closer, bending down on one knee. "What has you so worked up?"

"Wow, jeez!" Sam jumped, not seeing Optimus behind him in the dark.. "You guys gotta come down to the warehouse, it's about the Allspark!!"

Both Rachet and Optimus looked to one another. Some hope might still be left for Jazz.

And the moon never stopped smiling...

**One hour ago...**

"Ok, ok, so how does this look? Better? Come on Bumblebee, throw me a freaking bone here."

In the lofty warehouse, numerous crumpled wads of clear paper littered a ten foot radius around a large desk, which was also populated with even more wads of paper. A dark haired boy sat in a swivel chair before the wooden desk. He looked frustrated as he held up a piece of paper.

Bumblebee rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the paper, not sure what to say to the upset human. "You said there was an alternative to this assignment, am I right? What? Did I say something wrong Sam? Why did you throw that at me?"

"Ugh...Just forget it. I'm no artist and this project is going no where." he slung the pencil down in defeat. "If I don't get and A on this, my grade is gonna look like the pieces of scraps that was once called Megatron..."

"Hahaa!" Ironhide smacked the side of his leg, overhearing Sam's rant. "Well then, it really will take a miracle to fix your grade." He chuckled as he polished his cannons, not taking notice of the death glare he was receiving.

Sam slammed his head to the desk, hard.

"You guys don't understand ok. We're talking about _finals_. F-I-N-A-L-S." Sam emphasized with pounding the side of his fist on the desk.

"We know how to spell it Sam. We did download the Webster's Complete Dictionary, the Oxford Concise Dictionary, the Complete Standard Universal Dictionary-"

"As well as the whole world wide web, yeah, I know!" he sighed deeply. "Sorry, I'm just a little tense right now. It's the only required subject that you can't study for and if you don't have what it takes, you're just kinda screwed."

"Well is the other project this difficult?" Bumblebee asked.

There was a muffled groan.

"Come on boy, out with it. What do you have to do in the other project?" Ironhide strolled over to them, admiring his very shiny cannons. There was a hint of annoyance in his tone, and Sam had learned very well not to annoy him. He also took notice of the very shiny cannons.

"Ahh..." he gulped, "well, it's not as difficult but it's a heck of a lot more work. The teacher makes it hard on those who are artistically challenged, and she probably thrives on our misery..." Sam spun around in his chair, facing the two Autobots. "Basically I would have to write a seven to ten page report on a local artist AND have a thirty minute interview with them. I mean, there's just no way I have time for that..."

"But you found time to court your female yesterday." Ironhide grinned.

"That was different, we studied together." Sam shot back.

"I'm sure you did study her. And what about the trip to the movies the other day?"

"I'm a Harry Potter buff, so shoot me."

"That is an option..." Ironhide taunted. "And there was also that party your friend had."

"Alright, I don't have an excuse for that one..."

"Oh, and not to mention that carnival last Tuesday..."

"What are you stalking me now?" Sam scooted himself back, and a little closer to the exit.

"We'll just call it boredom. But the point is, boy, you've got the time. You just can't manage it. Or smooth talking a female. Ugh." Ironhide shook his head.

"Hey, I'm working on it alright?!" Sam squeaked in his defense. "I'll do it ok? I'll do it. Jiminie Christmas." Sam turned around and started up the computer on the side of the desk. "At least I'll never have to take another art class again..."

With a few clicks of his mouse he was connected to the internet and started his search on good, old, reliable google.

"Ok, so we'll start out with Nevada artists." he said, the two Autobots crouching behind him, watching. "Uhh, let's see...Nevada art school, nope. Nevada music artists, nope. Nevada...con artists?" Sam scratched his head on that one.

"The boy's technology cannot read thought patterns yet. How primitive." Ironhide commented to Bumblebee.

"Yep, I'm old schoolin' it." Sam clicked on another link. "Come on baby, give me something..."

"Do you want our assistance? Our processors can load 500 gigabytes per nanosecond, versus the 1.89 kilobytes per second of your computer..." Bumblebee offered, revealing a long metal connector from his index finger.

"You guys are sick, you know that?" Sam glanced at the connector. "Man, if Microsoft ever discovered you, Bill Gates would be the next Jesus." he continued his search, the two Autobots just looked at one another.

"Oh! I think I found something." A brightly colored web page with various thumbnails of paintings slowly loaded before them. Sam leaned closer to the screen. "Let's see...local art show...May 28th...Full of family fun, bring the kids..." He scrolled down. "Introducing new, undiscovered artists...come down to Juniper town and have some fun." Sam broke out into a triumphant grin. "Hah! That's only 40 minutes from here! And from the looks of it, there'll be quite a few artists there." His cursor traveled down a lengthy list of names, each one with a picture of the artist beside it.

"Which one will you pick?" Bumblebee looked over the list. "Any particular style you're looking for?"

"Nothing with bowls of fruit or lots of naked people. I don't know, maybe something kinda science fiction-y. Dragons, rock stars, aliens." he clicked repeatedly, going down the list of choices and browsing their works. Most were, like he dreaded, still lives of house hold items, a few nude sketches, and even a series of surrealistic cat portraits. So far, his pickings were looking pretty slim.

"I like that one." Bumblebee innocently pointed at a picture of a boy hugging his new puppy dog at Christmas. Ironhide grumbled something, shaking his head.

"Sorry buddy, but I'm the one who has to do this project..." Sam looked for the next artist. "Hey, this one doesn't have a picture... Kimana Clandestine... Huh, cool name." He clicked on it.

"Wow. Now that's the kind of art I'm talking about! Check it out...it's definitely sci-fi alright."

Over a dozen paintings covered the page. Most consisted of alien looking worlds and moons, some even had strange structures protruding from the desolate lands. One such picture Sam had clicked on was titled, "Before Gluttony". It was a stunning view of three beautiful moons floating in a sea of orange of purple, speckled with thousands of stars. The tips of tall, jagged buildings were in the horizon, showing evidence of thriving life in the dark, canyon-like landscape. Sam clicked on the next picture. This one portrayed a laboratory filled with sophisticated technology and tools. Showers of white hot sparks streamed from a mechanical device that appeared to be working on some sort of robotic life form that laid upon a long metal table. All around the room, ancient looking markings lined the walls and the monitor screens.

"By the stars..." Ironhide swore.

"Yeah, she's pretty good isn't she? Haha, I think I know what artist I'm choosing."

"That...that's impossible..." Bumblebee's face was now next to Sam's, gazing intently at the screen.

"I know, I can barely draw stick people. Some just really have the stuff-"

"No boy!" Ironhide yelled, cutting him off, moving closer to the screen as well. "You don't understand. This painting...it should not exist!"

"Wh-what do you guys mean?" Sam flicked his eyes at the them, and started to feel slightly nervous with the two massive Autobots moving even closer, giving him barely enough room to turn his head either side.

"Those moons...that city. I know them! That's not just some made up world, that's our home! I simply cannot believe it...It's Cybertron!" Ironhide's deep voice faltered briefly, tangled with shock, disbelief, and longing.

"Everything, right down to the constellations..." Bumblebee's optic scanners whizzed to life, taking in every brush stroke. He moved so close to the monitor that Sam thought he would melt into it at any moment.

"Wait, wait...hold up here for a second." Sam butted in, though he moved back so as to not be sandwiched between the two giants. "You're saying that some chick just happened to paint your planet? I mean, are you sure it's not just some weird coincidence? Alien planets can really look alike sometimes...Just a couple moons here, a hi-tech city there..."

"No...that _is _Cybertron Sam. The inscriptions are of our language..." Bumblebee pointed to a sophisticated-looking character in one of the paintings, clearly fascinated.

"Hey..that looks like one of the symbols my great grandfather drew, when he was in the asylum. After he saw Megatron..." Sam gazed into the distance, thoughts whizzing around him. Finally, one of the thoughts hit.

"That means that this Kimana...she must have had contact with one of your kind. Somehow, she's come across one of you at some point and now she's making paintings of your world. That's the only way..." he brushed his hand against the back of his head. "Am I right? Guys?"

The Autobots were fiercely debating in their own language, gibberish to human ears, as their scanners frantically inspected the paintings. Ironhide made a few insistent gestures with his fist, pointing to the screen. Bumblebee replied with a shake of his head and a shrug. They continued like this for some time. Sam thought it best that they try to work it out first, and he could ask later. It was their planet, their home. They would know what to do...

"I just don't understand..." Ironhide growled irritably, speaking English once again.

Sam took his cue and stood up, walking back over to them. "So, I'm guessing you've figured something out?" He then received a nasty glare from Ironhide. "Or maybe not..." Sam gulped.

"Bumblebee is taking an extensive deep particle scan of the paintings. We should be able to detect her finger prints, perspiration, any sort of genetic information that may provide clues." looking back at the screen, he murmured, "Anything to make sense of this."

"Do you think the Decepticons might be behind this?" Sam couldn't mention the name without feeling a slight shiver.

Ironhide shook his head. "I don't think that the human would be alive if they were."

Suddenly, Bumblebee jumped, the optical scanners buzzing and flashing in a crazy display of noise and light. Sam nearly leapt four feet into the air. He had found something.

"By the stars! Ironhide! I've detected particles of the Allspark!" Bumblebee waved in a frenzied manner. Ironhide was at his side in mere seconds. "It's somehow encoded into the finger prints I found on the painting, and the bits of perspiration that seeped into the paint."

"So you would say it's direct contact?!" Ironhide was shocked.

"Yes. The same results have come up on _all_ of the paintings, all possessing the same amount of Allspark particles. They're microscopic, but they are there." Bumblebee stood up and turned off the optical scanners.

"Then we gotta tell Optimus!" Sam was already running for the door. "I may not understand the Allspark like you guys, but I know just how much the bad dudes want it. And I don't want anyone to be in the same position I was in on the top of that building, helpless and hunted." Sam frowned as the dark memories stirred in his mind. "We have to figure this out before they do. So no one else gets hurt!"

"Well said Sam! We're with you!" Bumblebee cheered, his body twisting and transforming into his Camero form.

He revved up the engine and Sam quickly jumped in the car. Ironhide was already in vehicle form, adding to the dust clouds as they made their swift, roaring exit. The open sky welcomed them with a wash of red, golds, pink, and yellows, all glinting off the shining vehicles. For the vault of heaven that evening opened up to reveal it's most lovely treasures above them.

But anyone gifted with a hint of wisdom knows that treasure attracts greedy eyes and ambitious minds.


	2. Chapter 2

There! Now it's edited to perfection! Well, better than what it was...And look, we have a chapter title now! lol Anyways, please enjoy and let me know what you think!

* * *

**Chapter Two: Courage Comes Compact**

"Alright Sam, what's going on exactly? You mentioned the Allspark." the semi-truck buzzed in eagerly on the communicator. Ratchet listened in intently.

"Uh, yeah. You see Optimus," he shifted uneasily in his seat, glancing back at the semi in his rear view mirrors, "I gotta do this project. For art. And well, my teacher, she's a jerk, and I can't draw. Then I got mad. So I decided to do something else. But I didn't want to-"

"Sam, slow down. You're not making any sense..." Optimus said. "What does this project have to do with the Allspark?"

"Uh, well, you see..." Sam squeaked, trying to get his thoughts in order.

"Let me explain, sir." Ironhide spoke up, his gravelly voice strained with mild frustration. "He was doing research on this project and looked on the internet for some artist he needed to interview. We came across a website that had local artists on it, and we browsed through some of the art." He paused for a moment, still trying to overcome the immense shock of their findings. "And well, we found paintings of our home. Of Cybertron." He murmured to himself, "Of Cybertron..."

"I couldn't even begin to process it Optimus," Bumblebee's voice hid none of the awe he felt deep in his core, "Every single detail of it was completely accurate. And not only were their paintings of Cybertron, but of the neighboring planets as well."

"But no human could have possibly known about those planets." Ratchet's quick, logical thinking came to the surface in the sea of mystery. "It's been gone for thousands of years."

"Yes...I must say this news is rather shocking." Optimus replied, slightly disturbed. "And how does the Allspark come into play?"

Sam took a deep breath and calmed himself. Being around giant alien robots and discussing the possible fate of the world was kinda unnerving sometimes. It can give you those funny little butterflies in your stomach and twist your tongue. Give him a break.

Sam cleared his throat. "Bumblebee took a scan of the painting, sir, and he found traces of Allspark radiation in it. As well as the other paintings."

"Actual traces of the Allspark? Hmmm...Very interesting. Yes, I'd like to see those scan results when we get back to the warehouse, Bumblebee." replied Ratchet.

"No problem." Bumblebee said.

"This artist, what is their name?" Optimus asked, his mind trying to piece together the puzzle laid before them.

"Kimana Clandestine. She was the only artist to not have their picture up." answered Sam. "Go figure."

"You must meet with her, Sam. We need all the information we can get, and we need to get it fast. I have a feeling that things could turn very badly if we don't." An ominous tone was hinted upon Optimus' words. The others solemnly agreed.

"Don't worry guys, I already have a plan worked out in my head." Sam muttered thoughtfully. "We'll go over it once we're back at the base. Oh, and uh Optimus?"

"Yes?"

"Nah, never mind..." Sam mumbled.

"What is it? You can ask me Sam." Optimus replied reassuringly.

"Well...I was just wondering. Jazz was partially restored from the Allspark piece we have. And...if there are fragments of it still left out there..." he gave a hopeful look back at the semi in his mirror.

Optimus understood."Where there is life, there is hope." His strong voice carried through their hearts.

Somehow, Sam found that phrase very encouraging. It seemed to have rekindled something within him, and gave off a warm, welcoming light. Even Ratchet's logistical thoughts stopped pondering in percentages and allowed for unconventional thoughts to break through, hoping for the best. Optimus certainly was a great natural born leader and he knew just how to boost the morale of his companions.

"I'm sure Jazz will be glad to hear that..." A small smile graced Sam's words.

Gradually, the smug darkness silently spread his heavenly cloak over them. It's inky blackness provided a perfect and deadly cover for those who were most unwelcome...

_Meanwhile at the Base..._

_Whir...Whir...Wreen. Whir...Whir...Wreen. _

"Uhhgh...mmmf..."

_Whir...Whir...Wreen. Whir...Whir...Wreen._

"Erghh..."

It was yet another restless night for poor Jazz. Still stuck in some complicated, metal contraption, always making some obnoxious noise and never comfortable. Probably Ratchet's cruel idea of a joke, he thought miserably to himself. No matter how much he struggled, he couldn't get it off of him. The bars laying horizontally across his body were strong and reminded him of a cage, with a wild web of tubes and lines above him. Cages and webs. He didn't like either very much.

_Whir...Whir...Wreen._

"Urgh!" he exlaimed, pushing with all of his might.

Nope. It wasn't going anywhere. He sighed. When had he become so...dare he admit it, _weak_? It seemed that what normally would bend and buckle at his lightest touch was now so consuming of his strength. It made him tired. Very tired. He slept a lot too, more than he could ever remember. It was all getting to be very frustrating for the Autobot.

"And where the hell is everyone?" he grumbled in his mind.

That was another thing that bothered him. Whenever he was awake, nobody seemed to be around. Not even the spazzy little human. He did remember Optimus and Ratchet talking to him on a few occasions, but they just mumbled something he couldn't understand. Jazz made out a few words but it wasn't enough to make sense.

Jeez, what's with everybody?

_Whir...Whir...Thud. Thud. Thud._

Jazz tilted his head to the right, using his audio sensors, fuzzy but functional, to pick up the noise more clearly. Sounded like footsteps. Maybe they were back, he hoped.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

"Perfect...I wait patiently and soon enough they all leave. Even being so kind as to leave the front door open for me." A giant form loomed in the doorway, peering around at the cavernous interior of the base. Two bright crimson eyes flared in malicious glee.

"Heh, heh...first thing's first." White sparks soared through the air as the giant delved his fingers into the security camera stationed above the door. All of the wires connecting to the cameras flashed with blue electricity and immediately short circuited.

"Sorry, I'm a little camera shy." He cackled as he casually strolled over to a large metal door opposite of the entrance. Built in next to it was a security code key pad, half the keys were numbers while the rest were in Cybertonian symbols. There was a restless grumble.

"Hmmm. I may be patient but I have no time for this. A door with security is bound to have something worthwhile behind it." With frightening speed, he exchanged his metallic fingers for what looked like an overgrown blowtorch. "So let's take a look."

The giant took a step back and braced his torch arm, aiming straight for the door. Flames erupted and spewed viciously at the metal door, illuminating the interior with bursts of reddish-gold light. The security door was strong, but was never meant to hold out very long against an inferno of such intensity. A soft glow of yellow, molten metal bubbled in a large circle, enough for the giant to pass through.

"That should suffice..." Satisfied with the carnage he unleashed, he gave a slight test push against the center of the molten circle. It slowly gave way under his hand. A small cackle made its way through his vocalizer as the door fell with a monstrous thud.

"So what secrets have you been hiding, Optimus?" He ducked and stepped through the hole he created, extra careful not to touch the molten edges. "Perhaps precious data about your discoveries and goals? Or your weaknesses? Maybe I'll get lucky..." His greedy eyes immediately spotted a massive control pad with a screen that nearly encompassed the entire wall. Cybertronian script floated over the purple screen in a repeating pattern. It was their equivalent of a screen saver. Ratchet had found it one of the more amusing human inventions.

"Yes, yes...And this must be the connector port..." The giant scanned over the control pad with a dark intensity. A small port hole was built into the pad, a convenient connector for the Autobots, which allowed their thoughts to navigate and control the computer. His fingers once again changed and a long piece of metal emerged. He quickly connected it to the port hole.

"Ever since that pompous idiot was tossed into the ocean, my luck has certainly taken a turn for the best. We never got this far so long as he was the one barking out orders. Heh.. I hope his internal engines get clogged with filthy organics...lots and lots of them." The Decepticon smiled at the mutinous thought.

Flashing, bright red lights suddenly interrupted his reverie. The screen signaled the unauthorized use of the port hole, and made all sorts of loud, obnoxious sirens. Again, another human idea fancied by the Autobot medic. Within seconds the computer shut off and the screen turned black, logging him out.

The Decepticon jerked his connector from the port and cursed Optimus in his native tongue. He wasn't about to admit that it had made him jump in startled surprise. No, the prideful giant gave the control panel a steely glare and made his way around the large room, in search of more valuable, yet less noisy, discoveries.

Unfortunately, the one thing that was most valuable lay unprotected before him.

"This...is too wonderful to be true. Yes, an opportunity not to be missed." he chimed in evil tones. His large shadow loomed entirely over the small Autobot.

_Beep bleep beep._

"Wait...I know that noise." Jazz's mind tried to process the signal his monitors were sending. His visual scanners were also picking up something, but it was fuzzy and blurred beyond recognition.

_Bleep beep bleep._

"Damn this static, I can't see a thing. The scanners report signs of movement...so maybe it's Optimus. Man, it's gotta be..." Jazz's visuals were starting to clear up, the images becoming sharper. "Judging by the height, it couldn't be any of the others but him. And it's about damn time too."

But the frightening cackle he could hear through the white noise froze his circuits. The figure stood over him, radiating everything that Optimus was not.

"So here we are, two enemies brought together by the unknown forces of the Universe, destined to fight. But..." the giant glanced over the vital life support machines in amusement, "it hardly seems that much violence will be necessary. How did that old saying go? The one that idiot favored. 'One shall stand and one shall fall.'" Another slow, murderous stretch of laughter filled the room. The giant raised his hand above Jazz, shifting silently into a most gruesome weapon.

_BEEP BEEP BLEEP._

Jazz remembered that voice. "Oh shit," he cursed vehemently, all of his sensors and alarms ringing, making it hard for him to think. But then a thought rose above the flood of noise.

"How the hell did he get in here? Where's the security? And where the hell is Optimus and everyone?!" His frustration and anger rose as his weakened body attempted to break free of the bars strapping him down. He felt some of the bars beginning to bend. He tried harder. Cables began to snap. His energy output was at maximum. But it wasn't enough.

A bluish, white light gathered in the center of the giant's fist, growing louder and stronger. Two red optics etched the sight of the helpless Autobot into his memory system, storing it for future relish. He lowered his cannon closer as Jazz struggled harder against what he knew was coming. It was only inches away.

"Farewell..." the Decepticon whispered.

Jazz cringed before the intense heat, cursing with his last words.

"You've got mail!"

"What...?" Startled by the voice, the giant whirled around in surprise, still holding in his blast. "Who's there?!" His eyes shifted suspiciously around the room. "Come out!"

"You've got mail!" the voice repeated.

Snarling, the Decepticon followed the repetitious voice into the first room he entered, keeping his cannon fist stretched before him. He had just been rudely interrupted from his kill. Whoever dared to impede the Decepticon was going to pay for it.

Looking across the room, the giant found that there were no signs of anyone else present. His audio trackers located the voice coming from a small computer off near the corner, against a wall. With a unpleasant growl he withdrew his cannon and bent down to investigate. As angry as he was, his nosey-ness outweighed his current desire for destruction.

"Pathetic human computers..." the giant nearly spat. A pop up flashed on the screen, indicating that Ladiesman217 had received an email from a sender known as 'hotwiregurl'. Once again, the Decepticon connected to the computer port, and opened the email.

If an autonomous robot could blush, this one would certainly be several shades of crimson. He quickly decided that the email held no significant information and closed the window immediately. Never would he understand humans and their...passionate yearnings. And he vowed not to think of it again.

Fairly disgusted with his findings, the Decepticon was eager to return to his murderous fun. He stood up and turned. But a thought stopped him in mid step. He did a double take. The web page left up caught his eye.

"What's this...?" he leaned close to the computer screen, nearly touching it. His red gleaming optics zoomed in on the image displayed on the web page, magnifying it a hundred fold, again and again. He streamed the information into his memory bank. "How could I ever...in this entire Universe...have been given such a splendid streak of luck?"

As well as Sam, the Decepticon made a mental note to inquire a certain artist and how her paintings came to be so unique. But that thought was quickly interrupted

Something hot and exceedingly painful grazed the giant's arm. Another blur of whitelight buzzed past his face and crashed loudly into the wall behind him.

"Eat that, bitch." Jazz's distorted voice taunted from behind the door's melted hole. During the Decepticon's absence, he wasted no time in freeing himself and decided enough was enough. Forgetting about the screaming sirens and warning signals flashing about severely depleted energy sources, Jazz wanted to teach this intruder a little lesson about breaking into his crib. "And dammit, you made me scratch my custom paint job. Ain't nobody who gets away with that shit."

The Decepticon took another blow, this time to his leg before he could shoot back. "Rrragh!" losing his balance, the giant fell to one knee. "I see there is more life in you than I thought...But that only leaves me more to take!" Screeching missiles burst from the Decepticon's hand and smashed into the wall Jazz swiftly ducked behind. Another white blast was fired at the giant from the smoke of the missiles and the explosion. He heard a number of engines roaring in the distance.

"Wait...Engines?" the giant pondered as he dodged another shot. "Damn..." he remembered. "Well, today's been fun, pathetic Autobot, but I'll take my leave now. You may have managed to hang on to your half-life today, but you will face a far more fearsome enemy next time we meet."

With stealthy speed, the Decepticon raced out the door and into the freedom of night's open sky. Jazz silently cursed as he watched him get away, unable to muster enough energy for another blast. His slumped frame leaned heavily against the wall for support.

"By Primus! That's Starscream! He was here!" Jazz heard Ironhide's tense voice growing closer. "We need to check on Jazz!" More voices and pounding footsteps echoed in the massive base.

"I'm over here..." the weakening Autobot attempted to raise a hand.

"Jazz!" Bumblebee rushed to his friend's side. "I didn't know he could stand."

"I didn't either." Ratchet scanned to make sure he was clear of any injuries. "And he can shoot as well...but that's cost him dearly. Look. He can barely keep his internal functions running. We need to get him back to the energon support machine. Now."

"Here, I'll help carry." Ironhide's voice softened to a gentler note as Jazz faded into unconsciousness. And so, the three Autobots quickly set themselves to help him, running about the room, reconnecting him to the energon machine that had kept him alive for the past month.

"Oh no..." a hollow whisper crept from Sam's dry throat. He stood before the computer desk on the other side of the cavernous room. Sweat trickled from his forehead.

"What's wrong? Sam?" Optimus sensed the dread in his voice. He looked at the screen Sam was staring at. Then he understood. Something heavy fell inside his core and left a cold, numbing feeling in circuitry. It was just as he had feared.

"I think I'd like to talk about my plan now." Sam turned to face the leader of the Autobots.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Dayspring Abacus**

The small human stood before him with clenched fists, stance rigid with determination Optimus remembered that look. It was during their battle with Megatron as he reached for the Allspark with twisted, greedy fingers, and valiantly protected by the boy's surprising courage. That same gleam was in his eyes. Optimus briefly pondered to himself: were all humans this brave, or was this boy gifted with something that few posses? But that thought would have to be postponed for now.

"I'm listening, Sam." the Autobot bent down, eager to formulate their next move. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, now we know that this Kimana is going to need our help, and she needs it now. Starscream knows and...I bet she doesn't even know what kind of danger's coming her way." Sam glanced back at the monitor.

"That is why we must find her first." replied a resolute Optimus.

Sam nodded. "So I was thinking, if you can sweep the net, search for anything about her, maybe even find some clues as to her where she lives, we might be able to get to her before Starscream."

"I already ran a search while we were on our way here." the Autobot shook his head. "I found no other information on this girl, other than what we already know from the art web page. Either she does not have a computer or she's making an effort to keep her most of her identity off the internet." A tired frown strained his visage as he pinched the nose plate between his optics. "Which not only makes it harder for us, but for Starscream as well."

"That's kind of a good thing I guess." Sam kicked at a crumpled wad of paper laying by his foot.

"But..." the Autobot looked down at the boy, hope dawning in his voice. "We have something that Starscream does not."

Sam felt a little nervous as the giant robot stared down at him with a heavy, and thoughtful, intensity. The boy shifted his gaze from side to side, an awkward silence beginning to fill the room.

"Uhhh..." the boy rubbed the back of his head. Sam drew a complete blank. "We do?"

Optimus remained silent but still held his gaze over the boy.

"Ummm..." Sam moved to the side, but the Autobot kept staring. "You kinda lost me there...what is it that Starscream doesn't have, but we do?"

Optimus blinked. "A human representative."

"Oh, right. So we do." Sam replied. He felt like he now needed a business card.

"The Decepticons are unable to form working relationships with humans, much less coexistence with any other kind of species." Optimus thought out loud. "And even then, it's difficult for themselves to cooperate with each other at times."

"That's right, Optimus. Miserable little fraggers they are." Ironhide had listened to them for a bit and welcomed himself to the Decepticon bashing. "They only mean to give themselves more power whenever they get the chance, be it through scrapping their comrades to the trash heap or kissing some serious aft. Friendship is merely a temporary status until someone gets in their way or become useless." the old war hero sourly remarked. "At any rate, with you, boy, we'll be a huge step ahead of 'em."

"Yeah, but..." uncertainty furrowed Sam's brow. "There's gonna be a lot of people there. Friends, parents, kids...That fair raises the risk factor sky high. It could be like Mission City all over again. And I just don't want to see anyone else getting hurt..."

Ironhide looked to Optimus. Sam's haunting words echoed his own thoughts exactly.

"It's hard telling how low the Decepticons are willing to sink. But he's looking for a human this time. One among hundreds. And a part of me believes that he cannot risk killing anyone so long as he's looking for her." the Autobot leader replied. "And we will be there should anything get out of hand."

"Four against one. I think Starscream realizes the odds of that fight." growled Ironhide.

Sam nodded, relief beginning to wash over him. "Ok. So I'll tell my parents that I'm heading out to Juniper tomorrow to get this interview, which is true. But when I meet her and get the interview, what then guys? I mean, she'll think I've got some screws loose if I tell her this whole ordeal about the Allspark fragments in her paintings and giant evil robots chasing after her."

"First we need to understand how the Allspark fragments got into the paintings and how she knows about our world." Optimus said. "During your interview, we may be able to find that out without having to tell her everything."

"Even if we can avoid revealing ourselves to her, she's going to need constant surveillance so long as the Decepticons know about her." commented Ironhide, placing a hand over his chest. "I can use my disguise to keep watch over the girl while we try to figure this thing out."

"Either that, or kidnap her." Sam joked. Ironhide grunted disapprovingly.

"Let us hope it does not come to that." Optimus replied, receiving a few shocked expressions from his comrades. "Being taken by us would be a far less crueller fate than to be held in the brutal hands of our enemies." Silently, Ironhide and Sam agreed. They could all too easily picture the result of a Decepticon captive.

"Excuse me, Optimus." Ratchet stepped out from the security room, his voice heavy with severity. "If I could have a moment you. It's about Jazz." Immediately, he had their complete attention. Lines of worry and deep concern for their friend spread upon their faces. "You two can come too." Ratchet waved to Ironhide and Sam.

"Was he damaged from Starscream?" Optimus asked as they encircled the table in which the small Autobot laid upon.

"I was amazed to find that there was no evident damage from any sort of weapon upon him. The only external damages were the dents and scrapes from his struggle to break free of the restraints." the medic pointed to the horizontal scratches upon Jazz's silver paint job. "Somehow, he managed to fend off Starscream and not get hit, while in his weakened state." admired Bumblebee, standing beside his unconscious friend. "It's beyond me as to how he did it, all by himself."

Ironhide's fists clenched tightly till metal scraped. "Tell us Ratchet. What are the damages then?"

"The internal strain in which he put upon himself during combat was immense." Ratchet began, looking to each of them. "His bravery pushed the very limits of his body, and though he will live, it seems to have taken a toll upon his core. When we are in a weakened state such as Jazz, our internal systems do all they can to help us regain our fully functional status. But if they are pushed too far, they will go into what is like a reset mode." The medic uploaded a thorough diagram of Jazz's core on the giant monitor before them, showing the damaged areas. "For an uncertain amount of time, the core will resort to only it's basic key functions, in order to save as much energy as possible."

"So what does that mean?" Sam's tight throat constricted his voice, making it crack. "What's gonna happen to Jazz?" For what seemed like days stretching on forever, a dreadful silence filled the room and darkened their hearts.

The medic sighed. "Jazz's mental functions and capacities will be reduced to that of a sparkling. A child to your kind, Sam. And it is never certain as to how long it will take for the core to recover. I've heard of it lasting from a few months to never being recovered at all. For now, he is in a comatose state, and will remain so for the next 24 hours. I'm afraid the rest is up to his spark."

_**THUD**_

"Dammit!" Ironhide slung his curled fist against the wall. Hard.

_**THUD THUD**_

"Dammit..." The old war hero pressed the side of his fist and forehead upon the metal wall, his back slouched. Startled, they stared at him in silence as the ripples of his deep anguish washed over them. The sight of him, the resigned slope of his back, trembling fists, and shaking shoulders, was painful for his friends to watch. Sam could almost swear that he was weeping, were it possible.

Then a strong hand gripped Ironhide's shoulder. The Autobot leader muttered a few words of encouragement to his troubled friend, as well as the others to keep their morale up. But Optimus didn't expect he'd be bitterly shrugged off.

"Ironhide?" Optimus looked on with worry as the Autobot walked away from him. "Wait, Ironhide."

Ironhide turned his back to them and proceeded to stalk out of the room, heading straight for the exit of the base. "Just leave me be." was all that he would say. "Just leave me be..." All of them stood frozen with shock as they watched him walk out into the deep darkness of night until his footfalls could be heard no more. And there was silence once again. Optimus stood in the doorway of the once-secured room, staring at the exit, his eyes and thoughts all very distant.

Bumblebee eagerly looked to his leader, waiting for him to say something, hoping to be given the order to go after Ironhide. But he recognized that meditative look at first glance. Optimus would be like that for awhile, Bumblebee knew. He sighed..

"What was that?" Sam suddenly burst out, pointing at the door Ironhide exited. "What's wrong with him? Bumblebee?"

The little Autobot busied himself with readjusting some of cables that were connecting Jazz to the engergon support machine. He did not look at Sam, but spoke softly. "Please try to understand, Sam. Ironhide is a veteran to many battles, and has fought every one with all the courage and strength he possesses. His internal reflexes tell him to fight whenever we face something that stands in our way, or endangers us. But all of his weapons and skills can't stop what's happening to Jazz." Bumblebee paused, looking down on the comatose Autobot. "And I think it's the most painful wound he could ever suffer."

Looking at his helpless friend who was now barely clinging to life, Sam began to feel and understand what the old veteran was going through. It was enough to make one want to scream in frustration at the simple unfairness of it all. He felt his hands clenching with a will of their own.Then he thought to himself: just how many friends had they lost during all of those battles they fought, during the course of thousands and thousands of years? Just how much loss have they suffered?

Sam wondered, but he wasn't going to ask.

"Isn't it about time we got back to your house?" Bumblebee asked, mercifully changing the subject. "Your parents might ground you if we don't get going soon."

"Yeah, yeah you're right." the boy flicked his eyes to his watch. Sam walked up to Optimus whose mind was still miles away in the distance. "Hey, I have to go now, but I want to go over our plan again. You know, just so we're in the clear." The Autobot must have finished his thoughts, or decided to leave them as is because he finally turned to look him. Sam was relieved. Sometimes it's hard to talk to that thoughtful leader when he's pondering, at least that's how Sam felt.

"I'll leave the house around 9AM, so I wanna see you guys there when I head out. Just, remember to be careful this time. Please. No transforming in front of the neighbors or in my mom's flowers. _Especially_ not in my mom's flowers. Just nice cars and trucks on the road like all nice cars and trucks do." Sam couldn't emphasize just how important those flowers were, especially after seeing how ticked the Mrs was when they were first destroyed. Scarey.

"Right. We'll make sure not to be seen." Optimus replied.

"No, no, you gotta make sure you don't transform. See, that's what happened last time-"

"Alright Sam, we won't transform." the Autobot interrupted before Sam started rambling. "We'll follow you to the city and watch over you from a distance, as well as keep an eye out for Starscream. But if things get dangerous and we run into some Decepticons, I won't hesitate to protect the innocent." Sam sighed, but nodded in response. Optimus then turned to Ratchet.

"Jazz will need your supervision so long as he's in this condition. You'll stay here with him and hold down the base while we're away. In the meantime, I'll install a communication channel in the main computer program here so that you know what's going on." The leader jerked a thumb over to the giant monitor behind them.

"Well then, you'd all better make sure to not to get yourselves damaged tomorrow." Ratchet smiled. "Because even though I'm one of best medical specialists, there isn't enough of me to tend to all of you. And be sure to tell that to Ironhide. By Primus, he's already had half of his parts replaced." he raised his hands in feigned aggravation. "He's probably got a list of the other half he wants to bust up."

Bumblebee and Sam couldn't help but chuckle at the medic's wisecrack. Even Optimus smiled. Things may be dire and have the unlimited potential to get a whole lot worse, but comic relief was comic relief. And it won. Hands down.

After saying their goodbyes, Sam and Bumblebee headed on their way back to the Witwicky household before curfew was up. Optimus watched them leave until he could no longer see the red tail lights and the whispy clouds of dust kicking up behind them, fading into the breeze.

Upon detecting motion in his peripheral vision, he then noticed a lone figure illuminated by full moon light standing by the edge of the base grounds. Optimus slowly approached. The sulking figure barely turned his head towards the Autobot leader, not daring to look at him fully. "What's this?" Optimus thought to himself. "It looked like I saw shame in his eyes..."

"What is it Optimus? If I'm free of orders, I'd like to be left alone." crept an unusual tone from Ironhide. It was twisted with pain, sorrow, and even a stab of hot anger.

Optimus stopped. "I'm afraid that I do have an order, Ironhide. It's necessary for the mission ahead. And it's crucial that you listen."

The side of the war hero's face turned a fraction more towards his leader. Just enough to show attention. Nothing more.

"Your orders are to stop this sulking. Immediately." Optimus put bluntly, his tone serious. Ironhide turned completely to look at him, slightly surprised at his command and the unexpected hint of anger in it. Silence filled in between them for a moment as the silver rays of the moon slid across their metallic bodies, the rustling of distant trees was the only sound that dared to impede. But ever so slowly, Optimus' frown lifted into a small smile.

"And tell me what exactly is bothering you, old friend." the leader walked up to his side.

"It isn't like you to sit bitterly in the shadows."

Ironhide heaved a deep sigh, looking to the heavens for the right words to say. "If anyone should be put to blame for the disasters of this day, I lay claim to all of them, Optimus. I was the last to leave, and I should've known better than to have left the base unlocked, wide open for anyone to come stompin' in. For Primus' sake, Jazz could be damaged forever for what I've done!" his giant arms threw themselves skyward. "And I've been called a war hero, a veteran by all of you. And that very same hero has put one of his own comrades into a permanent sick bed!" Ironhide shook his head in shame, still in numbing shock over his friend's degrading condition.

"But you were not the only one who forgot, Ironhide. Bumblebee and Sam also made that mistake, so do not lay the blame so heavily upon yourself." Optimus pointed out. With only the compassion a true friend could give, he looked to Ironhide and smiled in forgiveness. He rested his hand reassuringly upon the veteran's tired shoulders.

"What's done is done no matter how much we may wish to change the past. We cannot undo our mistakes, but we can certainly learn from them." Optimus stared into the beauty of the full moon above them, echoing a distant and great sadness that all of their kind understood.

Ironhide could only say three simple words. "Thank you, Optimus."

"So let's focus on tomorrow and getting to the bottom of this strange mystery with the girl." he gave Ironhide a great pat on the shoulder. "I have a feeling that more likely than not, our weapons specialist will be needed to protect her and other innocents." A grin made it's way upon the leader's determined face. "And should the Decepticons make an appearance tomorrow, you'll have plenty of reasons to introduce them to your favorite cannons."

Ironhide smirked at that thought. "They could use an extra polishing..."

_Meanwhile in the Earth's Atmosphere..._

"What do you mean you can't get there on time?! You last reported there would be no delays...What's that? Road construction?! You're supposed to be the authority for the humans, Barricade, just go right through them! It's their fault for getting in our way!...Fine, fine. Do what you must...Just get there as quickly as possible. Over and out."

Just when his luck seemed to turn for the better, things all started going downhill for the new leader of the Decepticons. Starscream recovered valuable information from the Autobots, and now knew of their plans. But once he started thinking things out, it wasn't going to be so easy. The hardest part of everything was going to find this artist within a large crowd of humans, (who looked all the same as far as Starscream cared) and just with the knowledge of her name. And considering that F-22s aren't normally seen at an art fair, his only chance of getting close to the human would be through Barricade's disguise. Only now, said Decepticon was stuck in a major traffic jam in a heavy construction zone. And he knew that if they risked transforming in front of the humans, the Autobots would seek them out and probably destroy the one Decepticon that is useful to Starscream at the moment.

He had the sudden and urgent desire to mangle the life out of something. And to be honest, there weren't many living targets in the upper layers of the atmosphere, so he shot at a space rock in his scopes. It didn't help much.

"Blast those Autobots! They'll have the girl before Barricade can even reach the city!" Then a thought fell upon the Decepticon, his crimson optics began to glow brighter. "Wait. That's it! We won't have to find her if the Autobots do it for us. Surely they'll go after her now, especially since we know about her. Yes, I can just track them from the air while Barricade follows them..." Mad cackling trailed through the freezing cold air above the Earth. The Decepticon leader gazed eagerly over the vastness of the planet below, ready for the new day to come. A faint, shimmering gold sliver of light already began to creep it's way across the edge ofthe Earth's horizon.

"Hmmm...But I feel like I'm forgetting something..." he murmured to himself, unsure of what was nagging at the back of his mind. "I've found a suitable base here, established my rightful authority to all those who were loyal that fool, successfully and single-handedly infiltrated the Autobot stronghold and acquired highly valuable information, informed Barricade of his new mission, checked in on Skorponok's report on the movements of the human armies in the Middle East..." He hovered for a moment, tapping his finger over his chin, looking across the Earth and then sweeping his gaze to the stars. Something about space seemed to ring a bell...

"Oh!" Starscream exclaimed. "Oh...yes. Now I remember." he repeated, except with much less enthusiasm. "_Those_ two..." The new leader grudgingly opened up his communication channel and began to enter the coordinates for his signal. He turned to face a dull, reddish light that twinkled far out into space, just within the scope of his vision. Even though it was a convenient hiding place from Autobot and human eyes alike, he never really liked that planet Mars. And so, he fittingly nicknamed it the 'damned rusty rock of abysmal boredom.' Also know as, DRRAB. "Why the hell those fleshlings want to populate that hunk of rust is beyond my processors." he griped as he began sending the signal.

"This is Lord Starscream speaking, do you copy? Skywarp, Thundercracker, do you read me?" He waited for a moment, allowing them time to recognize the signal. He heard the standard static, but nothing more. "Lieutenants, this is your commander speaking, do you read me?" He repeated again, agitation building. He paused for a few more seconds and just as he was about to speak, he heard something that sounded like a small bomb exploding and the crackling of static.

Then it was all chaos.

"The **hell** do you think you're doing?! I thought we agreed that I was going to blow up that mountain!" Starscream heard a voice yell, and one that could only be recognized as Thundercracker's.

"All you were doing was just standing there looking at it! I nearly thought you forgot how to shoot, so I did you the favor! Besides, it was my turn anyway..." replied another bickering voice that sounded no less childish than the first. Starscream assumed it to be Skywarp's.

"Doesn't matter if it was your turn, I called that one!" there was a loud thump as Thundercracker pushed Skywarp to the ground. "What would you understand about the beauty of destruction anyway? I was looking at it to find the best place to aim so I could have the most destructive explosion." Thundercracker stuffily explained. There then was a nasty growl, a yelp, a crash, and then a series of thuds and clangs only to be assumed as a rolling brawl.

"_You have got to be kidding me_..." Starscream thought to himself. "_Idiots. I've recruited damned idiots. By Primus_..." He adjusted his signal so that it would be broadcasted louder.

"Come here you pathetic sheet of scrap, and fight like a real Decepticon for once!" bellowed Thundercracker just as he dodged another shot aimed at him.

"Heheh, you're merely jealous of my ability! I'm over here Cracker!" there was a strange whirring noise followed by a cannon blast. "No, now I'm here! Hahahaha!!"

"Quit teleporting, you damn coward!" A series of short, barking shots sounded from Thundercracker's gun.

"Lieutenants..." Starscream cleared his vocal processors.

"Too slow! Hehehahaa! You'll never get me!!"

"_Excuse me_-"

"You can't keep it up forever! Hah! Take that!!"

"This is your commander-"

"You'll pay for that Cracker!!"

"_**LIEUTENANTS**_!!!"

And then there was order. An ear-rattling, wide-eyed type of order, but it was there.

"Just **what** do you two think you're doing?! I should've never trusted to leave you two on that damnable rock without supervision! Consider yourselves lucky that I'm not there to personally see to your punishments!!" the leader screamed quite loudly so as to painfully ensure their unyielding attention. "I want you both back to the base ASAP, retention to your quarters for now, until I can think up a fitting punishment for the two of you." He could nearly hear them frowning at each other. Good, he thought. A little misery taught wonders.

"Now, I want you two to pay attention for once. I just infiltrated the Autobot's base and found a bit of interesting information." he began sending image files to the two subordinates. Starscream heard their expected gasps and hisses. "There appears to be a human who knows of our home, Cybertron, and much to my dismay there is no other information about them that I can find or that might explain this. But most importantly, Allspark fragment radiation was detected in this human's paintings. And I find this to be too interesting to left untouched." The calculating gears of his metal mind turned at a growing speed, adding and subtracting, estimating anything and everything that could work to his benefit. He figured at the very least they could hinder what the Autobots were planning. It was small, but always satisfying.

"In the meantime, Lieutenants, you'll have plenty of time to ready the base." Starscream said as he looked to the growing dawn with a fierce gaze of flame.

"Commander, what do you mean 'ready the base'?" Thundercracker buzzed in, puzzled.

The first born light of day crept it's way across the Decepticon's visage, night's shadows giving way to a twisted smile that did not belong in that golden sun's rays. But nonetheless, he exalted in it.

"For who else but our new captive?" smirked the new leader of the Decepticons.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Turbid Prognostication **

The sun rose with beautiful splendor that golden morning. Birds of all kinds shook off their sleep and gave wing to light hearted melodies, not a single care in the world, as if the shining dawn would never end. But such luxuries were not given to Optimus. He stood in all of the sun light and music, looking to the new dawn from the base grounds, but no matter how lovely it may have been, it would not lighten the growing heaviness setting upon his mind.

He felt the edge of something sinister and threatening graze him in the wind. It was an old familiarity, and one that he did not completely welcome but was partially grateful for the sake of providence. Deep down in his very core, his spark whispered about what might be lost that day, and what may be gained, but ultimately he could never be sure with such an unknown factor in his plans hovering above them. The artist, this Kimana, had the leader of the Autobots utterly baffled. For a long time he wondered, recalling all the information he learned about humans, if she would cooperate with them if worse came to worst. He prayed silently that she would be as understanding and good-hearted as Sam.

The Autobot stared into the rising sun. What strange, divine machinations had Primus laid before them? Optimus did not have the answer, but simply hoped that their God would be merciful to His children this day. Even as misguided as some were, violence was the last thing Optimus wanted to resort to. The bitterness of loss still lingered strongly in his core and the prospect of more would be difficult enough to bear.

He looked down to his open hand, the source of all his hope and trouble resting squarely inside his metal palm. The fragment he took from Megatron's molten core was so small in those great, strong hands. Hands that could lift impossible weight, hands that could crush enemies, hands that could shield innocents from harm. But ultimately, his hands did not have the power to push back death. This fragment did. And because of that, everyone and everything that was near it would be in grave peril. Humans and Autobots alike. Golden bronze light reflected off the ancient artifact like a small sun.

It truly was a blessing that embraced a curse.

He gave it a last glance and returned it to the secret compartment hidden below his chest. Always did he carry it with him. Why? Because it was better to have constant protection over it than to trust it to be left somewhere where two strong arms and a laser gun won't always be. Simple.

"Optimus, I'm ready to leave whenever you are." came Ironhide's gravelly voice from behind. "The boy and Bumblebee will be expecting us soon."

"I am ready." the leader turned away from the dawn and looked to the open road ahead. "Primus watch over us..."

_Meanwhile at the Juniper Art Fair..._

"Jaa!! Jaa! G-Girlisfounddd! Girlisfound! B-Barricade!!"

"Then keep your head in the car, Frenzy. The less unnecessary attention we draw from these disgusting creatures, the better. We've been lucky enough to not have to deal with the Autobots so far." the police car radio emitted dark, scratchy laughter. "But we beat them to it."

Hidden in the shadows of an alleyway, a cop car was carefully parked behind stacks of tall crates in which covered the other half that the darkness did not. So far, no one had noticed it as they walked by. Only a couple of alley cats sniffed cautiously at it, and was then about their business soon enough. Adjacent to the alley stretched long rows of artist tents and tables around the entire block, the sounds of laughter and excitement rang in the air.It was a day for celebrating and commerce, the beginnings of careers or the advancement of others.It was also a day that would forever change the foundations of a soul.

"We've found her, Starscream! I can see the girl now...she's merely yards away. What would you have us do? I can change now if you wish." Barricade buzzed eagerly in his comm link. "The Autobots are nowhere to be found, I could grab her now-"

"No, you fool!" Starscream commanded irritably, though he deeply enjoyed hearing it yelled at someone else for a change. "You're always rash in dealing with these humans...Stay and watch her. I want any information you can get about her."

_"This is unexpected...Surely Optimus would've been here by now, or at least before us, considering Barricades' traffic delay. It is possible this could be a trap." _the Decepticon leader wondered to himself. _"Ah, well. I was looking forward to some 'Bot bashing today anyway...Hmm, yes. Hahaha...I see now that the Universe obviously smiles upon me. I have the girl literally within my grasps. __**I **__have the upper hand. If I wait for a little while and see what they have planned, things may yet unfold to become more worthwhile yet." _Greed lifted the corners of his metal lips into a terrible grin.

"Send Frenzy to get up close so he can take a look at the paintings. The more information about her, the better." he ordered, fully ignoring the restless grumble from Barricade. "When the Autobots show up, I want you to trail them. **Do not attack, do not interfere.** Simply relay everything you see and hear to me. Once I know what they're up to, I will give you the signal and you may have your fun with them. Understand?"

"Perfectly, Lord Starscream." Barricade responded, much more cooperative at the mention of battle. Frenzy shook with what looked like a miniature seizure.

"Good." Starscream replied. A great leader has to throw them a bone sometime, doesn't he? Obedience was priceless, and he knew all to well what happens when subordinates become unhappy with their commander. _**He **_was what happened. But oh well. Those were his underling days, the past. He now stood with the authority he schemed and yearned for above all else. As far as he was concerned, the entire Universe was cupped by his hands. And it felt damned fantastic.

"Thank you sir, enjoy your print."

_"Wow. Eight hundred bucks and it's only midmorning. I think it's safe to say that I'll be treating myself to a lobster dinner tonight..." _

Kimana leaned back in her fold out chair, slowly flipping through a wad of Washingtons, Lincolns, Hamiltons, and even a few Ben Franklins. But it wasn't easy business, that's for sure. Holding in such excitement and keeping up the cool, nonchalant artist image was proving to be rather difficult as the prints were selling, and the money just 'a rollin' in. Ok, so she did break into a triumphant bout of loud laughter, scared a few small children, and received reproving glances, but it was safer than the full flown victory dance. **Much **safer.

Finally, she felt like she was making some progress in her career, as well as her financial status, and for a long time it was an uphill battle as an undiscovered artist. But now it was like she had found the little niche in the world she could call her own, starting here in this little town called Juniper. Gingerly she put the money back into her black safety box beneath her desk. But something seemed out of place.

"I don't remember putting you there..." her violet eyes noted a print leaned up against the leg of the table. "I thought I put you over here with the other space prints."

Upon picking up the picture, she saw something behind it that was also out of place. Her eyes narrowed. "And I definitely don't remember ever having you..."

She began to reach for a silver CD boom box, but a shadow fell over her as she was inches away from it.

"Uh. Hi." said the teenager boy, eyes shifting around nervously, his face gleamed with trickles of sweat.

"Hello there..." she sat back in her chair, taking in her next potential customer. He looked a little odd, or at least his expression did. But she shrugged it off, seeing as he might buy something. "Are you interested in sci-fi too?"

"Yes very. Always been a fan, very cool stuff. Yeah. Heheh." he stuttered, carefully avoiding eye contact with her when she looked at his eyes.

_"Awkward..." _she thought to herself. _"Why's he looking at me like I have something on my face? ...God, do I?" _discreetly she brushed the side of her hand against her nose. "Well, I hope you enjoy my paintings-"

"Yeah! I mean, t-they're great. Beautiful works of art. Heh. I can't even draw stick figures." he blurted out. _"Oh sweet Jesus. I can't do this._ _Nope. I gotta go back and tell Optimus." _

"Uh, are you ok kid? You're looking kinda...red. And you're sweating. A lot. You need to sit down?" the raven haired girl stood up, offering her seat. She looked past her dark tinted glasses, concern filling her purple eyes.

That did it. Sam ran for all he was worth. Fast as those two legs of his could carry him. Zooming past the crowds, he made his way back to a small parking lot, tearing through whoever and whatever he had to. He very nearly smacked into Optimus's grill in his hectic rush.

"Whoa there Sam!" the leader backed up in reverse, speaking through his comm link. "What's wrong? Have you sighted any Decepticons?" In his readiness, he nearly began to transform.

"No...I just...I can't do it...Optimus...Forgive me..." Sam managed to wheeze out, his hands resting heavily on his knees. "I can't..."

"What do you mean you can't do it?" Ironhide questioned as he crept up to the boy, quite baffled. "You're just supposed to ask for an interview. How can that be so hard?"

Bumblebee pulled up to Sam as well, worried about his friend who was obviously very disturbed. "Was she some sort of a she-devil? What happened?"

The boy took one look at the Camero and grunted between gasps, "She's attractive. That's what happened. "

For a long moment there was silence, feelings of awkwardness, sympathy, and disbeliefspreading between the three Autobots. Ironhide was easily the most perplexed and annoyed of them all.

"Boy! If I could, I'd rattle your shoulders till your head fell off and hoped it knocked some sense into that sparkling head of yours! Because she's attractive...Bah!" the Topkick growled, the heat of his anger rising. "Why if I let a femme get in the way of everything I did-"

"Easy there, Ironhide." Optimus interrupted the veteran's rants. "I think we can all relate to him. And I clearly remember Chromia being the spark of your optics and speeches for hundreds of years. So it's not as if we haven't been distracted by our better parts at one point or another."

"Grmph." grunted Ironhide. _"Damn it Optimus. Using Chromia against me like that...Hmph. He's good." _

"Well it's not like you don't have a female, Sam. Remember Mikaela? You shouldn't be getting the jitters." Ironhide pointed out.

"Of course, I could never forget about her, she's my girlfriend, but...I still just get, ya know, nervous around them. Especially the really attractive ones. And she has purple eyes. Humans just don't _have _purple eyes." Sam said in his defense, his face beginning to return to it's normal color.

"Well, we've been working on this, right Sam? I've been coaching him on how to play it smooth with the ladies. Well, with Mikaela at least." Bumblebee added with a hint of pride to Optimus and Ironhide. "You know, things like how to set the mood just right and making her feel, well, like a lady."

Ironhide tried very hard not to give into temptation and wallop the both of them, till maturity was bashed in good enough for the teens to realize when the time was appropriate to talk about swooning over the fairer sex. Optimus just sighed.

"Look Sam, no matter what she may look like, we _**must **_find out what's going here. This isn't a mission we can shrug off." the semi-truck reminded him with a serious air. "Like you said to me before, it could end up like Mission City, and that is something we cannot allow. You're the only one here who can talk to her, and therefore the only one who can get to the bottom of this before it's too late and the Decepticons make their move."

Sam wasn't soon to forget the carnage and destruction caused by the last Decepticon attack. Thinking back, he felt quite ashamed of his reaction and decided that he'd rather face a pretty girl than a big, nasty Decepticon bent on squishing his face into the sidewalk. Yeah. He made up his mind right then.

"Alright. I'm gonna go back..." replied Sam in a firmer tone. "But what should I say to her? I just made myself look like a real weirdo..." Sam looked to the Autobots, hoping for some advice.

"I know!" Bumblebee exclaimed. "Here, you can use my mini cam and ear piece!" his passenger door and glove box opened up to reveal a black baseball cap embroidered with a little picture of a bee on the front. Sam lifted it up closely and saw that on the side of the hat had a camera lens so tiny that he almost missed it. Laying next to the hat inside Bee's glove box was a nearly transparent ear piece the size of his thumbnail.

"Some ear piece. I feel like Inspector Gadget or something." Sam grinned as he put it on. "So is that it? Everything set to go?"

"Yup. All you need to do is follow my instructions-"

Ironhide and Optimus gave Bumblebee a mild version of 'the adult glare'. Which is not an easy thing to attempt as vehicles, but they pulled it off well enough.

"Uh..._our _instructions," Bee swiftly corrected himself . "and give you some pointers along the way. Besides, it's better for us to see what's going on, and you know, I wouldn't mind seeing a femme that pretty in the meantime...What? I'm just being honest." he said defensively as the veteran's growling and grumbling increased.

"Focus, everyone. We've a long day ahead of us and a lot to figure out." Optimus reminded them. He couldn't suppress the worry gnawing constantly at the back of his mind, nor could he completely withhold it from his voice. The others looked to him, sobered after hearing the concern buried deep in his words. "Let us act quickly before any danger has a chance to arise. Go now Sam, we're right behind you."

He gave the leader a sharp nod and adjusted his hat. "Thanks guys." And he was off.

Bee activated the camera and ear piece, sharing visual and audio links, a.k.a. the 'Sam Cam', with the other two Autobots. They watched as he melted his way through the crowd and approached an artist tent. It was small but held a respectable number of sci-fi paintings that portrayed mostly alien planet landscapes and architecture, and each one showed the obvious time and effort spent into making them. Sitting apart from the usual space paintings there was a stack of watercolor prints. Although, this subject matter was entirely different. Colorful, eye-catching butterflies floated across wind-swept meadows, danced across the sky, and gracefully perched on the tips of flower petals. The girl had just handed one of the butterfly prints to a lady who seemed quite pleased with her purchase. Kimana smiled at the lady as she walked off toward another tent.

The Autobots had to admit that there was an air of something strange about her, something that was invisible, but somehow, it felt like it was almost tangible, and it wasn't anything any of them had sensed from a human. Notably, they had only met a handful of humans and there was still so much for them to learn, even with the information provided by the internet. Sam was living proof of how the human race never ceased to surprise and astound the autonomous robots, the greatest explorers of the universe who thought their ancient, long-lived race had seen all there was for the stars and planets to behold. But there they were, scanners whizzing and whirring, trying to detect anything about that strange presence emanating from the human female. They got nothing. She was simply a woman, five foot nine inches, blue-black hair, round, dark-tinted glasses, full lips that smiled a quirky grin, and violet hued eyes that looked upon the world with a lazy curiosity.

Bumblebee zoomed in on her face. "Wow. For a human, she really is cute."

"Stop that!" barked Ironhide irritably, a little unsettled at the unknown feeling tracing through his circuitry.

"Sorry..." Bee reluctantly zoomed out.

"Shhh, look." Optimus ordered.

Sam walked up to the tent, camera shaking a little as he got closer to her. The jitters returned.

"Ah, hello again..." he managed to mutter. He gave Kimana a weak wave.

"Speak up Sam, stay cool." Bee coached through his ear piece. "Stay strong."

The Autobots watched Kimana as she smiled back. "I see you return. Welcome..." she paused, looking intently at him, waiting.

"S-Sam! The name's Sam. Heh."

"Welcome back, Sam. Hope you're feeling better." she spoke in a mild tone, shuffling the stack of papers on her table, only glancing up at him once. For that, Sam was most grateful. "Feel free to take a look around, you might find something you'll like."

"Uh, right." Attempting to take her advice, he stepped inside the tent and began to browse through a folder of butterfly sketches. He was glad that she didn't seem too weirded out by his spazzy behavior, as least, not openly. But the gears in his mind seemed to slow down again, thinking becoming increasingly difficult, and the half-processed chunks of words were the only things he could spit out.

"Say something boy. You can't just stand there and gawk at the pretty pictures." nudged Ironhide.

"Ask her a question, to break the ice." Bee advised, he knew his friend well and could sense his struggle. "Ask her about how her day's been. Girls like that."

The Autobots heard a sigh a whispered curse. Sam wasn't so sure if the hat and ear piece was such a great idea after all. For a moment he let his heart slow down a few beats and turned around so that they could see the girl again. This time she was checking off some list.

"So uh, how's business been for you today?" the teen managed to say without stuttering.

A wide, beaming grin gradually spread across her face, and a small glow warmed her eyes. Sam hit the golden jackpot.

"Hah! I'm glad you asked that! I've been dying to tell someone!" bright enthusiasm lit her words, and she nearly jumped out of her chair. Sam backed up a couple paces. "First there was three publishers early this morning who said they were interested in some commissions, and they looked like they might offer a pretty penny, if you know what I mean." she winked. "Oh! And of course the locals seem to enjoy it just as much, why there was this guy who said my work looked just like a professional, a real professional!" During all the release of excitement she forgot to take a breath, and in that instant she paused to glance at the teen who looked nearly petrified in the face of her blazing energy. She paused.

"Ah, forgive me..." the brightness faded a degree from her voice as she sat back down, composing herself. "I'll just sum it up for you all nice and simple then: it's been a very successful day for this budding artist." she gave a sincere, hope filled smile.

He felt his own lips breaking into a grin. Somehow it was hard not to return her infectious smiles. From what he could tell she seemed a good, honest person. Attractive, very. Strange in more ways than one, most definitely. It was enough to scare him. But it wasn't a fear of something dark or evil. No, it was different.

Sam likened it to the tingling feeling of static electricity. Not nearly enough to cause harm, nor nothing of a sinister nature, but something that has enough power to grab your attention and leave you wondering where that power came from. Something about it felt familiar. He tried to remember last time he had been touched by a buzzing electric sensation like that. It wasn't long ago.

_"I was in Mission city. Yeah... I was running with the cube, trying to get to that building and I ran into a car and fell over. Onto the Allspark."_ Sam sucked in a breath as he realized. _"The Allspark. The same feeling as the Allspark." _

"Sam..."

"Hello, Sam?"

And then heard a snap.

"Hey, Sam, you there?" Kimana snapped her fingers, trying to pull him out of his dead stare. "Yoo-hoo?" She leaned forward to get a closer look at the boy's dazed eyes.

"Ah...yeah, yeah. I'm good." he recovered quickly. "I uh, didn't get much sleep last night. That's all." Taking a few steps away from her, he tried not think about the buzzing aura in the air and the incredible likeness to that of the Allspark. The concealed ear piece snapped and fizzed with white noise but quickly died down once Kimana sat back in her chair in the back of the tent.

"Bumblebee, what was that?" Optimus asked once the Sam Cam regained stability. "It was like another signal was overriding ours. A powerful one."

"Yeah...you got me there, sir. It must've been coming from her or those paintings or something." replied Bee, readjusting his signal, just as baffled the others and a tad bit irritated at the lapse of his favorite device.

"I don't like this." darkly murmured Ironhide. "Not one single, slaggin' bit. My sensors can't detect a thing on this human but I can feel it from here. That-that...well whatever it is. It ain't right." he restlessly swore. "No wonder the boy's actin' strange."

There it was again. Optimus kept it to himself, but he could not ignore the unmistakable razor tip edge of danger quietly pressing into the back of his mind. He had meant to keep his hopes high on this mission and place faith in his silent prayers. Primus was surely watching them all. But Optimus found himself going through the mental routines of preparing for battle, readying himself for the worst. Instincts over faith. He sighed deeply. One day, he hoped in core of his spark, that it could be the other way around. One day, but surely not this day.

_Meanwhile beneath Kimana's table..._

Pesky, annoying, primitive humans. Bah. Frenzy never liked them, nor would Frenzy ever like those meat bags. And to some extent, that hatred was justified, in a manner of speaking. It was because of these primitive organics that he got decapitated. Twice. Well, nearly twice. The last time most of his head was taken off except for an eye stalk and his neck. And he was like that for quite awhile until he managed to drag himself out of that gargantuan human facility. Barricade did his best to fix the brave little cassette. But Barricade wasn't a certified medic and at times Frenzy would forget things or just black out on the spot. More than likely there were literal screws loose in his head. All in all, it was more than enough damage to harbor vindictive feelings towards the natives.

And right about now, as he sat under the artist's table, he really, really hated his job.

Frenzy listened and recorded the two humans in their conversation, relaying the information to Barricade, who was consistently informing Starscream. He did his duty well, but that didn't mean he enjoyed it. The Witwicky boy gibbered on and on, and it was enough to give the stuttering master a dull ache in his circuitry. Though, Frenzy could understand why the boy had such a hard time putting his words into coherent structure. Heavy amounts of Allspark radiation emitted from the paintings that surrounded them and clouded thought and speech. The air seem to fairly tingle with electricity. So much so that his own comm link was overridden with static on a few occasions, Frenzy's very own, top of the line communication channel that could only be jammed by a frequency as sophisticated and powerful as his. And it always seemed worse when the girl was close. Stupid, fragging femme. Megatron was right in one belief, Frenzy thought to himself; all women really were just trouble.

But Starscream seemed to be the polar opposite of their former leader. Where Megatron would've ordered mass destruction of the organics and steam-rolled his conquest of dominion across the planet, Starscream sent only two of his own to sit and hide in some highly populous city overflowing with squishies and spy on some female native from underneath her art desk. Frenzy didn't understand it, and he could sense the restlessness from Barricade as well. His processors calculated that it was going to be a long time before Starscream's new rule would be completely accepted among the other Decepticons. If it lasted very long at all. Meanwhile, anger and resentment festered in that little cassette's core, and currently, he desired nothing more than to rip something to shreds, but alas, Starscream had given strict orders not to cause any destruction.

At least for now. Frenzy was reminded that the Witwicky boy was here. Which meant that the Autobots were not far behind. And once their leader was satisfied with enough information over the femme, Frenzy would have free reign to partake in scrapping some Autobot aft. It was something to look forward to. The cassette decided that he could withstand awhile longer with these organics.

"So uhh...I wanted to ask you a question, Kimana." said Sam, daring to break the silence.

Kimana looked up from her work, attentive. He cleared his throat. "Well, you see, at my school we have this project in our art class. Our teacher gave us a choice between drawing something or writing a report. And let me tell ya, I'm no Picasso nor will I ever be." he laughed awkwardly. Kimana just stared.

"Hoo Boy...Cut the lame jokes and get on with it." said Ironhide, restless.

"So as you can guess, I decided to go with the report...and that's why I'm here. I need you to-"

"To sit down and have a thirty minute interview?" Kimana finished his statement. "Yeah, I've heard about it. I hate to say it but some blonde haired kid named Miles or something already came by this morning and interviewed me. And with the way my schedule's looking right now, I don't know if I have the time-"

"WHAT?!! MILES?!" Sam exclaimed, startling Kimana. "Hippy-looking kid, blonde hair that comes to his shoulders, smells kinda funny?"

She didn't speak but nodded at him, wishing she had brought her pepper spray with her.

"What are we going to do?! We have to get that interview!" Bumblebee looked to Optimus.

"Sam, Bee, just calm down-" Optimus was cut off.

"Stop makin' yourself look like a fool, boy!" grated Ironhide.

"Sam, you gotta do something! Anything!!" Bee cried.

"Everyone, just calm down!"

"Sam!"

"Boy!!"

"Rraaghh!! Just shut up!!" Sam screamed at the Autobots, holding his head as he tried to shake off the voices.

"..." Kimana scooted her chair back. She _really_ wished she had brought her pepper spray with her.

Sam froze. Realization struck like a bolt of lightning as boy and Autobot alike forgot that Kimana was there. Frag. And from the way it looked to her, Sam needed a white coat. The kind that strapped the arms around the body with chains.

"Ummm. Kid, who are you talking to?" she asked, feeling brave that she had the guts to even talk this looney.

"Oh! Uh, it's nothing, it's nothing. Got this new MP3 player type thing that plays music and uh, stuff. You can't really see it but it's there. Heh. Just kinda gets on my nerves." Sam could feel his face pulse bright red.

"Right..." she replied with an arched eyebrow. "Right..."

Frenzy watched the two humans and recorded their strange conversation, picking up some encoded signal being transferred from Sam's ear. More that likely it was some slagging Autobot device, he thought to himself.

While Sam was attempting to smooth over his mess up, Frenzy then noticed a new voice that came from the front end of the tent. Human, male, 45 years old, accent indicating of Japanese descent, Frenzy's audio scanners indicated.

"Hello and good afternoon. I am Daisuke Akane and I am here representing Bandai Entertainment." spoke the thin man, formally dressed in business attire. Frenzy noticed the intense silence from Sam and Kimana, only sharp footfalls sounded in the tent, coming closer. "You are Kimana Clandestine? No?"

"Ahh...yes. I am." she spoke meekly.

Frenzy tensed. He detected a rapid increase in the girl's heart rate, and with that came the blasted static. What now, he wondered.

"I've come here to speak on Bandai's behalf concerning your artistic talents." the business man produced two slips of paper from his pocket. "We have been searching across the globe for new talent and vision in the science fiction genre, seeing as we are working on a new sci-fi project. We came across your works online and they have interested us." Daisuke placed the slips of paper upon the art table. "We would like to present you with an offer."

Things started to go fuzzy and dark in Frenzy's scopes. The strange radiation was overwhelming his channels and he wasn't sure how long he could keep himself functional if it kept increasing. It must be this cursed girl, he growled to himself. Piece by piece, he began to transform. Nothing was worth the pain coursing through his circuits.

_"Stop right there Frenzy!"_ blasted a commanding voice through his failing comm link. _"Don't even think about leaving your post, not now!! You __**will**__ obey me!" _

"S-s-sstarscreamm! C-can't f-focus!! Girl isss m-makings-s-static!" Frenzy screamed painfully into his comm link. "Tt-too mmuchs-static!!"

_"Static or not, you will stay there as I have commanded you to or you will find yourself in a far more painful position!" _the leader growled as he cut off his link with the shaking cassette.

Uttering bitter curses to himself, Frenzy took his core-deep anger and used it as fuel for his determination to keep himself online. Though he felt as if his circuits were on fire, and his head splitting itself in half, he knew Starscream would find something much, much worse.

"W-what kind of offer?" Kimana picked up the two pieces of paper, her voice faltering briefly.

"You have twenty four hours from now to decide if you would like to work with our company under this project. Housing is already provided for, seeing as we've built apartments next to the company building and the usual pay is around seven hundred dollars a week, roughly converted to your country's currency. Our company, is of course, located in Japan. I've provided a private jet for you, should you take our offer." he smiled, pointing to the plane ticket now resting in her hands. "My number is on the business card. I look forward to your answer."

With that, the business man bowed politely and exited the tent. Silence filled between Kimana and Sam as they looked at each other in surprise, both trying to process what just took place. Her hands shook, lightly holding the ticket and the business card.

Frenzy took notice of the two pieces of paper and, with great difficulty, scanned the information on them. He relayed it all to Barricade. Tomorrow at two 'o clock, at the Los Vegas airport, the Jet Star 2 would be boarding the girl passage to- but then things started going very, very dark.

_"Frenzy, I can't make out what you're sending, repeat." _Barricade commanded, growing frustrated. _"Where is the flight headed to? Repeat, Frenzy!" _

_"That is enough, Barricade." _Starscream chimed in, perfectly calm despite the loss of communication from Frenzy. A little too calm for Barricade's likings. _"We have no need to know where the girl might have been headed. The information we have is plenty enough for me. Now, keep on eye on the girl and see if she decides to take the offer."_

_"What about Frenzy? His communication channel has been cut." _asked Barricade

_"He's blacked out on us before, so this is nothing new. Call to him again once the static levels decrease." _the leader replied, nonchalant. _"I'll have to remind myself to take a look into that head of his and see what's been loosely clanking about. At any rate, take over for him and relay everything to me. Over and out."_

Well, Barricade did as he was commanded and zoomed in on the two humans from his hiding spot. He was, however, a little unprepared for what he saw.

A smile as large and bright as the sun glowed fiercely down upon Sam as she began to take in the wondrousoffer pinched between her fingers. He'd seen people happy before, ecstatic and elated, but nothing, _nothing_, quite like the blazing super nova bursting before him. She jumped and twirled, sang and laughed, even took his hands in hers for a moment as she danced across the tent. Sam felt a little awkward, but he was thankful for the life-changing wash of happiness, for it flooded out the bizarreness of his last mess up from her mind.

But then, as soon as she got close to him, the white noise returned and with a vengeance. His ear piece fizzled and popped at first, and as she got closer, it screeched painfully into his ear, threatening to burst his ear drum. And it got hotter. With a flinch and a flick, he threw the piece onto the concrete sidewalk and heard something similar to a nasty explosion. He stared at it for a moment, eyes wide. _"Just in time..." _

Kimana never noticed the noise, but kept on celebrating her success. Sam watched, waiting for the moment to ask if she could change her mind about the interview. He was determined to get to the bottom of it all but, ah, life always seems to throw in that curve ball from nowhere.

The boy noticed that something seemed different from before. He felt hotter than usual. At least his head did. _Strange_, he thought to himself as he wiped the sweat from his brow. But as he did, he cringed and whipped his hand away from the intense heat that was above his head.

Fire. Sam's hat was on _**fire**_.

"**Sweet Jesus**!" the boy screeched, throwing down the flaming hat in a rush. He took his foot and stomped on it for all he was worth.

Kimana kept on dancing.

Barricade just laughed.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, it's the longest one yet. I thought I'd let everyone know, if you're curious, I've posted some fan art of Lost Fragments up on my deviant art account (the link to it's posted on my profile). I also have a growing number of mini comic strips of the Decepticons as chibis. Yes, chibis. ;) 


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:****Soldiers and Seekers**

Nothing. The three Autobots watched the cam, desperately hoping it would come back online, but they got nothing. The last thing they saw was their signal overridden by a bright red light, a sea of static, and then- kaput.

"SAM!" the yellow Autobot cried helplessly at the black screen. "Something's happened to him! We gotta go save him!"

Just as the Camaro revved his engine and was about to burn rubber, a giant vehicle blocked his path, looming over him.

"Come on Optimus, let's go!!" Bee couldn't hold back his impatience, not when his friend could be in the midst of danger or worse- Decepticons.

"You're not thinking clearly Bumblebee, if we're to help him we need to act cautiously. We're still in the midst of a town full of humans. We cannot be a cause of harm to them."

Bee's vocalizer faltered briefly. "But I'm his _guardian_, Optimus! It's my job to watch over him! Please, let me through!"

"_Cool your engine there, Bumblebee. You might short something and you'll be the one who needs saving_."

"Ratchet..." said Optimus, picking up another voice on his comm link. During all the chaos, he had forgotten that the medic was watching over the mission through a link he had installed with his computer. He was glad to hear a voice of reason and calm, albeit sarcastic, in the escalating blur of tense emotions.

"_Honestly, I leave the room for a whole three nano-clicks and by the time I return you've all gone out of your processors._" Ratchet dryly commented. "_Optimus, you're the most sane. What's going on now? Last I saw, the boy's camera was starting to loose picture and everyone was shouting like their CPU's been fried._"

"It seems the static jammed the signal entirely and sent it offline. I don't know, Ratchet. The source of it is inside the tent." A hint of frustration hardened the leader's tone. "Whether it's the paintings or something else, I just don't know."

Ratchet was a little shocked. He had expected them to find the cause of it by now. Surely something with a signal that strong would leave it wide open and easy to locate. It just didn't add up in his mental calculations. Decepticons, maybe?

"_Have you encountered any signs of the Decepticons, Optimus? Surely they're somewhere in that city with you, probably hiding. They could have some sort of a jamming device disrupting your signal._"

A grunt of agreement came from Ironhide's direction. "It makes sense. And come to think of it, I remember reading a strange signal nearby. It was faint but...it's best to assume the worst. Bet on my own cannons that he's got this city well under his slagging scopes."

Optimus already knew what they were getting into the moment the dawn rose that morning. He could not look to the sky for hope. It was an endless blue void that only held danger for them all: the Commander of the merciless Deceptions. Whatever Optimus planned, he would have to keep that constant threat in mind. Caution would be first and foremost, for the safety of the civilians surrounding them teetered between both factions' ability to retain stealth and secrecy. If but one mech should make even the faintest of errors and reveal their presence to human eyes, it would break the weak mask of safety that was held through concealment, and the devastation of Mission City would once again be repeated.

Optimus's power was limited, and his soldiers few. The gravity of the situation sat heavily on his shoulders and revealed to him his few choices. The leader looked to the brave two under his command. To his left, a veteran, warrior, friend, and on occasion, a mentor. To his right, a soldier, spy, supporter, and even a little brother. By military terms, this was hardly an army. It was barely enough by any terms, though it was the extent of his power. But the courage and determination they possessed would make for more than a hundred warriors. Optimus believed it with his very spark.

The leader slowly backed up, allowing the desperate Camaro room to pass through.

"Sir..." Bumblebee muttered, completely taken by surprise by his leader's change of heart.

"I have faith in you, little one. You've been working undercover here longer than any of us, and I should respect your knowledge." Optimus commended the mini-bot with an air of fatherly pride. "We wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

The other two Autobots watched in silence. Ironhide felt words of protest beginning to work their way through his vocalizer, worried for the sake of a lone Bee in the midst of merciless Decepticons, but their leader's compliments rang true and loud. Though he was young and possessed a sparkling's sense of humor, he was born into this war. Primus, no, it was his way of _life_. He had come to this planet as a lone Autobot. He had to adapt fast, _**while**_ fighting off Cons. Ironhide mulled it over, and it was hard to overcome his natural protective instinct, but the veteran relented and kept his silence as he watched.

Initially, Ratchet felt the same concern as Ironhide, plus the onset of a headache while he thought of the possible carnage he would have to fix later. Bumblebee's last injury after the fight with Megatron was in itself a complicated and tedious procedure. Replacing appendages was not exactly Ratchet's favorite thing to do, what with having to find all of the right parts and then reconnecting all of those cables, wires, and receptors over the course of five Earth days... All in all, it was a messy, messy business. But he found that a grin worked its way across his metal lips as he listened to Optimus commending the small Autobot. It was good to give the little guy some confidence and praise. _Well deserved praise_. He thought to himself.

"This is your mission, brave soldier." Optimus's strong voice addressed the Camaro. "You are to ascertain the whereabouts and condition of Sam Witwicky and report it to us ASAP. Stealth and secrecy will be your most valuable tools; they will shield you from unfriendly eyes. Return here once you have completed your mission."

"T-thank you, Optimus, sir..." replied the grateful soldier. Receiving those words of encouragement from his biggest role model gave Bumblebee a jolt of motivation. He looked to Optimus one last time and then let his engine roar before he set out to find his friend. Nothing could stop the little 'bot once he got word from big boss 'bot. They watched the Camaro merge into the main street that held the artist tents.

The Topkick rolled up next to the semi. "Gotta admit, the little guy's grown since I last saw 'em. Good call, Optimus."

Before the leader could reply, a smug medic spoke up on the comm link. "_Optimus, you do know now that if he should be injured, it's your parts I'm going to be using to fix him with. Just a fair forewarning._" They could practically hear Ratchet grin.

A deep laugh echoed over the link. "I have every bit of faith in him, Ratchet. Just you wait."

_**Meanwhile in the art tent...**_

Nothing seemed to go according to plan. Sam was a loose kind of guy and liked to play it cool, but he was also raised by a certain -- if quirky at times -- set of rules set down by his parents and he came to respect orderHis life was _normal_ for a kid his age. Up until he met Optimus and company. Not to say that they weren't the coolest things to ever happen in his ordinary suburban lifestyle, butsometimes he remembered how easy it was to just wake up in the morning and eat Cocoa Puffs in front of the T.V. Instead, he was currently stamping out the last of the flames that had seemingly sprung from nowhere that had consumed his hat and very nearly his head.

"Bumblebee...I've got a few bolts to pick with you. If I make it out alive..." Sam muttered under his gasping breath. He gave a quick look around him as he wiped the sweat from his face. Fortunately for the teen's sake, it appeared that no one seemed to take notice of the flaming hat.

"Hey kid, earlier you said you wanted to have some kind of an interview, right? For your school?" Kimana finally descended from her cloud of jubilant bliss and beamed down upon him with a smile as burning as the sun.

Something in Sam's brain went off, in the alarm sort of way. Something about the word "interview." He had to push his mind past the thought of just being nearly caught on fire, but he eventually came to find the bells that were going off.

_The mission, right. Interview. Jeez, Sam, don't drop the ball, er- cube now... You're almost there. Just ask her now while you got the chance. __**You can do it, handsome man.**_ An encouraging, subconscious voice cheered.

"Yeah. I did say something like that, didn't I?" he replied with one of his best smiles. Well, Sam _thought _it was one of his best. He didn't know that on the receiving end it turned out to be one really, _really,_ cheesy ass grin. He wondered why Kimana giggled in response.

"Well I'm feeling that I could take, oh say a half an hour off to go and celebrate for a bit." Kimana rustled around behind her desk and slipped on a messenger bag over her shoulder. "It'd be a shame not to really, since this is the beginning of my professional career. Someone needs to keep record of where it started. And if you're willing..." From her bag she produced a cardboard sign that read 'artist will return'. "I'm thinking of a nice little burger place a couple of blocks down from here. What do you say? My treat." Kimana temptingly waved the bill she held, grinning the entire time.

_Or you could just wait and let her do the work for you... But see? You just have a little confidence in yourself Sam and opportunity flings itself right at your gorgeous face._ _Well... That and a life changing miracle to help things out... But hey! It's all smooth sailing now!_

"That sounds great. I might not flunk art now after all." he jested.

Offering a helping hand, Sam and Kimana soon had the prints put up and the tent closed temporarily. He stood back for a moment and realized he needed to contact the Autobots, and soon. It probably didn't look good on their end, what with the audio and visuals suddenly going offline at a crucial moment. He had a feeling that Bumblebee was the most worried of them all. And Sam knew how jumpy he could be. Just as they began to leave the tent he took a sweep of the vehicles around him, hoping to find any familiar Camaros, semis, or Topkicks.

An engine's roar interrupted his thoughts. He wondered if they didn't have some sort of psychic link.

Sam turned to find the yellow Camaro parked adjacent to the tent in front of an alleyway, shamelessly flashing its lights. He cringed at the light show and nearly started flapping his arms to motion him to stop. Sam loved the mini-bot but he had to wonder how he got the job as an espionage director. Apparently the Camaro finally got the hint from Sam's displeased expression and turned off its lights. The teen sighed in relief and explained to Kimana that he needed to get his notebook before they left and would return soon. Understandably, her mind was preoccupied with her shiny new job offer and didn't seem to mind the wait. She took the time to look through the nearby tents.

"Alright Bee, she agreed to the interview. We're headed to some burger restaurant two blocks from here." Sam leaned down into the car through the passenger window, rummaging through his stuffed backpack for his notebook.

_"That's great, Sam! But what else happened after we lost contact? We were worried once we lost the signal. It could've been an attack, a kidnapping, Decepticons--" _

"Fire." Sam crossly interrupted, pausing to glare pointedly at the dash. "The hat caught on **F-I-R-E**."

_"Really? Wow. Didn't know it could do that... Oh, and I already thought I told you that we know how to spell Sam..."_

"Yes! You did!" he rubbed his head in frustration. "Look, I'm not sure how it happened but it was probably the AllSpark radiation that got to it, or like you said, Decepticons." Sam could feel the rumble in Bee's engine at the mention of their name. "And I haven't seen any yet so they're probably hiding around here somewhere."

_"I'll send them to the scrap pit before they can even think of hurting you."_ replied Bee, his voice serious and sharp with anger._ "As your guardian, I'll make sure no harm or pit-slaggin' 'Con will come your way. And I mean it."_

Sam was a little surprised to hear the mini-bot's usually friendly tone be hardened so quickly into what was a none other than a warrior's voice. But then, thinking back on their history, the Autobots were probably so used to having their brief moments of peace cut short that putting on a mask of battle was second nature to them. All the same, it reassured Sam that he was in good hands.

"Thanks Bumblebee." he gave the passenger door a friendly pat. "I better head back now. Tell Optimus and Ironhide to go ahead and station themselves near this restaurant before we get there. And that means you too." advised Sam as he began to walk back to the tents. A rumble from the Camaro's engine was its reply.

_"Good enough." _Sam thought to himself with a grin.

_**Meanwhile in the alley way...**_

_Come just a little closer. Only a little closer so I can have you within my reach. Ignorant little Autobot..._

Shadows, crates, and seven feet of space were the only things in between the battle-starved Decepticon and his unsuspecting prey. That and his leader's promise of a most painful punishment, should he step out of orders and decide to make his own fun. Barricade hated it. It was a command that went against his instincts, his very Decepticon coding, and forced him to hold back those violent urges. But this was beyond temptation...

Right in front Barricade sat the Autobot who left him leaking fluids and quite nearly on the brink of death only a of couple months ago. Ever since that humiliating defeat, his spark would find no peace from his other faction members' jeering, nor his own consciousness. And recharge was the worst of it. The fight played over and over in his memory banks, as fresh as when it first happened. The same punches and blasts scorching him, the same lunges and misses. Daily, he vowed to himself that he would find and track down that miserable yellow piece of scrap and return to the new Decepticon base victorious, with the Autobot's head in his hands.

He glowered banefully at the Camaro, only just feet away. The boy and the Autobot made some quick discussion over interviewing the girl and jammed signals. They assumed that the Decepticons took part in disrupting their signal and were in hiding near by. Oh, but they had no idea just _how _near.

And it would all be over in seconds. Barricade knew it. Consequences or not, the Decepticon found his parts moving with a volition of their own. The shifting, sliding, turning metal parts gave shape to his true and deadly form.

_How that pathetic mini-bot managed to cling to life this long is a wonder. I admit that he's favored by luck and has a knack for hiding. _The fully transformed mech lowered himself into a squat behind the crates, readying himself for a crushing tackle. _But he cannot hide when he is right in front of me... _

The death blow would be quick and efficient. His jump would propel him forward and give him the force needed to rip into the Autobot's spark chamber and vital parts. And he knew well that at this range, there would be no time for the 'Bot to fight back. Nor defend his human companion. The cables in his legs tensed up like a bent spring, ready to go. A dark smirk haunted his metal face plates.

_"Rricade...b-bbar...h-helllllp-p."_

Just two nano-clicks before he was about to dive at the unsuspecting Camaro, a fatefully timed signal was picked up on his comm link. The battle-starved mech watched the Camaro drive off down the street, farther and farther away from his reach. He cursed every being that ever existed and opened up his end of the link.

_"What is it, Frenzy?!" _Barricade nearly screamed into the signal._ "Do you know what you just __**did**_ _The slagging Autobot was __**right there**__!!!" _In a raging fury, he punched a four foot wide hole into the brick wall next to him, sending stone chips and dust everywhere. _"I should let you rust and die..."_

_"Sss-starscreeeamzzz ord-dderzz...attack-klaterrr..." _Frenzy replied, stuttering more than usual due to the searing pain in his circuitry. Looking to the tent across the street, Barricade could see the cassette moving behind the tent flap.

_"Orders my aft..."_

Despite his irritation and anger towards the cassette for ruining his golden chance to send another Autobot to Primus, he found himself in his alt mode again and merged out into the street. He never really knew Frenzy until he was assigned to investigate Earth with him, and during that time he realized just how useful the spazzy mech could be. Barricade wouldn't call it friendship. He would never admit to having such an attachment with anyone, but it was harder for him to stay mad at that little 'Con. In a silent way of saying 'just forget it', Barricade opened his passenger door and let the cassette stumble into the seat.

"W-w-whereee ar-are wweee goingnow?" Frenzy asked as he slid his metal fingers over his head. He flinched as a small jolt of electricity zapped his finger. After all was said and done, he was going to need someone to run a status check on him. The static must've done more than just override his signal.

"The Autobot boy and our target are headed to a new location. I must find and secure another..." Barricade nearly spat the word. "Hiding place..."

"H-h-ave-have y-yyou informedd-ddSt-starscreeeeam-m?"

"Why should I?!" he replied, suddenly angry. "This mission could've been over long ago if he just would've let me grab the pit-slagging girl! But he'd rather just sneak around and watch everything from the safety of the sky. Fragger. I could've had that Autobot's head too if it weren't for his 'run and hide' turbo-fox tactics."

"_Is that so, my loyal soldier."_

Barricade's engine rumbled at the smug voice on the comm link. Starscream must've heard the whole thing. But Barricade didn't care at this point. His anger was far too fierce and wild to care.

_"It is unfortunate to hear that you do not appreciate the usefulness and rewards stealth and secrecy have to offer, like knowledge, for one thing. But a rash brawler like you wouldn't understand that."_

The police car aggressively picked up speed as he made his way down the street, regardless of who or what got in his way. The pleased, almost sympathetic note in Starscream's voice kicked hard at his pride. Barricade drove faster. Frenzy held on for dear life.

_"But do you know why you are still following my commands, even as I speak? Do you know why you will not disobey your orders? Your spark may deny it, but the truth is in your __**fear**__." _Heavy silence echoed between the two as the leader's merciless words weighed down upon Barricade. The seeker's ascension to the rank of leader never sat well with those who were considered loyal to Megatron, and Barricade hid none of his feelings about it.

"I feared Megatron far more than you."

The police car skidded to a smoking stop and forcefully backed into yet another alley way near the restaurant. If Frenzy hadn't decided in using his seatbelt when he did, the cassette would have smashed into the dash and crashed through the windshield.

_"That fool was destroyed because of his rashness of action. He placed himself in the midst of Autobot and human fire and reaped the consequences of his limitless pride." _Starscream's voice lowered into a menacing whisper_. "I don't care if you were loyal to him or not, but I will not become blinded and leave myself open for attack. That is why I'm here at the top now and he is at the bottom of the ocean rusting away._ _Our numbers are few here, fewer than I would like, and so we can't risk anymore loss. Surely even you can understand that."_

Barricade understood perfectly. He had always known Starscream as a coward and this was nothing new to him. Run and hide, sneak and spy, it was all the same as blatantly saying he was too afraid to make any moves around the Autobots, the mech grumbled to himself. It kept them alive, truly, but there was no _**glory**_ in any of it. He wanted to feel the bending of metal under his hands, the excitement as he watched vital life fluids gush desperately from his victim, and triumphantly rejoice in their death wail. At least Megatron gave them the freedom to sate their desire for carnage.

"You promised us Starscream. Once this sneaking around is finished, we will have our fun." Barricade spoke in a harsh, even tone, only just barely barring his fury from his voice. "We _**will **_have our fun."

There was a stretch of light laughter on Barricade's comm link.

_"After your job is finished, soldier. Over and out."_

_**Meanwhile up in the air...**_

Starscream circled over the city again, for the countless time that day, pondering over recent events and none too happy with the results. The success of the mission centered upon obtaining information on the girl but it seemed that a giant hole was starting to form in his plans, and that hole was specifically named Barricade. The leader of the Decepticons could feel a dull ache in his CPU growing. His fractious spy and malfunctioning companion did their job well so far but it was hard telling if said spy would keep hidden, and more importantly, _**loyal**_, until things were finished.

_"If Barricade wants a fight I should just take the initiative and fight him myself. It'd keep him from thinking twice about disobeying me, not to mention__** I**__ haven't shot at anything living in weeks..."_the Air Commander muttered to himself, knowing all to well what Barricade was feeling. _"I wouldn't have any qualms in cheerfully maiming an Autobot right about now but we just don't have the numbers. Not now." _Starscream paused for a moment and corrected himself. _"Not yet... No. Not yet."_

Just like Optimus had sent encoded messages to any Autobots that may be drifting somewhere nearby in the blackness of space, so too did Starscream harken to the stars for support. He needed his troops in this vulnerable moment where he could take down the Autobot leader and his pitiful band of soldiers. If the Air Commander had only a fifth of their original number there under his command, it would most assuredly be the end of said Autobot leader and his merry few. It was frustrating.

It was _**pathetic**_.

Starscream circled over the town again, his speed picking up. Success had never been so temptingly close, so pit-slagging close. This planet could be theirs. Under Decepticonrule. _**Starscream's **_rule. The makings of his first empire. At this very moment. Starscream's optics narrowed scathingly down upon the little town.

It wasn't a question to his mind. **Barricade must not fail. **He knew the girl was somehow connected to the AllSpark, the source of life for their race. And if Starscream found the connection, and was able to use the powers of said source of life, he wouldn't need to sit and wait for his army to come. He would create his own and pick up where Megatron had failed.

But behind that loud, ambitious voice in his mind echoed a more quiet and thoughtful tone. One he had not heard from himself in millions of years. _You know you saw the AllSpark destroyed at Mission City. How do you hope to gain something that is lost to oblivion and beyond salvaging?_

Starscream paused at the thought that had seemingly come from nowhere. "The reason I'm ordering this mission is not for what was destroyed in Mission City. I'm searching for whatever power source is giving us the AllSpark-like readings in the paintings. They're too fresh to be from the AllSpark anyway." the ambitious voice grated, even reluctant to admit it to himself.

_And you plan on using this power source to conquer this planet? You don't even know what it could be, much less if it'll do as you command, if it even has that kind of power. _The calculating voice calmly admitted. _You're being quite the optimist, 'o great leader. If you'd just think about it scientifically..._

Starscream paused and realized he nearly told himself to shut up. He knew he wasn't diagnosed with a multiple personality disorder, but he hadn't thought like that for nearly countless centuries. It disturbed him, somehow, and he decided he was going to forget about it. For now. He had way too many other things to think about than to continue to argue with a part of himself that should've died vorns ago.

He then realized he was not alone in the sky, taking notice of two fighter jets as they came from behind and flanked himStarscream readied his guns, already aiming for one of them when it started to speak.

"Hello there, fearless leader."the jet to his left replied.

"Did you miss us?" the jet to his right inquired.

"The slag are you two doing here?!" Starscream spoke, mildly annoyed. "I thought I told you two to stay at the base!"

"Pfft- yeah. And let you go solo and have all the fun?" commented Thundercracker, unfazed by his commander's displeasure. "Besides, don't you want your lieutenants with you on this day of conquest and glory and power; 'o wise and mighty leader?"

"Don't get sarcastic with me."

"You're our leader now but you've been our flight commander longer." Skywarp pointed out, in a 'matter of fact' tone. "A seeker will always be a seeker. No matter what they're seeking."

"Then as your flight leader I _command_ you to return to the base." Starscream sneered.

"But weren't you just complaining about how few our numbers were on the battlefield?" a smug Thundercracker shot back.

"How did you...?"

"You think out loud. Especially when you're mad." mildly admitted the blue-hued jet. "Didn't you know?"

"..."

Starscream knew these two better than anyone and knew that he could not win when they teamed up on him. He admitted his defeat with a moment of annoyed silence, shortly followed by wordless grumbling. Even thought they were in their alt modes, Thundercracker and Skywarp gave each other the metaphorical 'thumbs up' look, being a tradition for them whenever they happened to become victorious over their leader. The air commander felt it coming and in turn wanted to smack them with his metaphorical hands.

"Alright fraggers. Let's pull up before these flesh creatures see us. They may be stupid but the sight of three war machines circling over them like vultures may not bode well for our cover of secrecy."

The two other jets followed their commander up into the blue void that was spotted with a few cotton-fluff clouds that made it the perfect summer sky. There was a moment of shared stillness between the three where they simply took in the beauty of the planet, land and all, as they made their ascent. Many of the planets they visited, most often raided or destroyed, were prone to violent and unsettling storms along with other perilous characteristics. All three had suffered from such dangerous environments, such as the time Skywarp nearly had his head blown off from a volcano that had decided to awaken just as the unsuspecting Seeker flew over its cap. Or the incident where the atmosphere's corrosive gasses ate away Thundercracker's paint job, as well as nearly an inch of his external metal plating. Starscream had also been beaten by foul weather... he remembered being thrown into a snow storm by the likes he'd never seen. It was on a mission long, long ago and even after the external damage he suffered was fixed, he'd always keep the internal scars from it.

A cold shiver passed through him. He had vowed to never think of it again.

"I don't think I've ever seen such a peaceful little mud ball before. It hasn't tried to spit acid, lava, or cyclones at me yet." Skywarp said cheerfully. "Taking that as a good sign, I don't think I'd mind staying here for awhile after we claim it."

"It is nice." Thundercracker agreed. "The gravity is light enough. Makes taking off a lot easier on our thrusters and it doesn't pull on our wings so hard."

"Maybe we could open our own energon bar... It could have those nice neon lights in the front and some older Cybertronian decor for the interior." mused Skywarp."Open five solar-cycles a week, ten mega-cycles a day. Sit back and enjoy a cold one at the Seekers Saloon..." He turned his attention to the silent air commander. "What do you think Screamer?"

What seemed like a dark and brooding mood loomed over their leader like a heavy cloud, chilling his voice. "I think you all need to get your slag together before you go and claim a planet ours when it still has yet to be purged of Autobots."

Thundercracker and Skywarp looked to each other, surprised by his sudden coldness.

"Alright, then let's go down there right now and blast them to bits. I want my bar." demanded the determined black seeker. "And we have the advantage of the sky."

"It's not that simple Skywarp! The humans' military forces are already on high alert, they'd have us surrounded before we could escape." Starscream angled to the right, beginning to turn around in the same circle he'd flown over the town all day.

"But we could have them destroyed at least! We could always go back to DRRAB if the Earth forces become too much." Skywarp followed his lead and began to make the turn as well.

"And leave the girl and the AllSpark readings behind? No."

"Is it really worth all this trouble?" a perplexed Skywarp asked. "We could take a chance now and win, Starscream."

But Skywarp's words fell on deaf audials. It was evident to his wing-mates that Starscream was not in the mood for listening or reasoning no matter how right they may have been. This did not settle well with the two of them. Something about his anger didn't seem to stem from the mission. It possessed an underlying intensity in which they knew Starscream emitted when he was truly angry at himself.

Skywarp opened a private channel with Thundercracker. "_What in Vector Sigma's gotten into him? Was it something we said? Something __**you**__ said? The bar, maybe? I just don't get it... I always thought he liked bars..._"

"_Negative. If anything I think he'd welcome a block of high grade to drown out his worries. No, it's about something he's not going to spill to us._"Thundercracker stared ahead at the flight leader, an edge of curiosity in his voice. "_So it's gotta be about something serious._"

_"I haven't seen him like this since Megatron fought him...you remember." _Skywarp cautiously spoke, the very memory of it a painful and awful thing.

_"We were the ones who dragged him away before Megatron...before he could've killed him. How in the abyss could I forget?" _Something went very cold inside of Thundercracker's circuits. _"If you know what's best you'll keep your vocalizer shut off about that. Besides, Megatron is dead now. It couldn't be about him."_

_"Maybe being the leader is harder than he expected. He's got a lot on his processor, and whatever it is, we'll stick by him. Other Decepticons may disagree with his leadership but we'll set the slaggers straight. We'll watch his back like we always have." _

Skywarp disconnected his private channel with Thundercracker and spoke aloud in the brilliant summer sky. "We're Seekers. Friends, wing-mates, brothers."

"Fly together, die together." Thundercracker echoed, speaking the old Flight Academy motto with reverent nostalgia, though it meant something deeper to the three of them.

Deep down, Starscream was in agreement, but he could not bring himself to speak the words out loud. The days when they had flown together were long gone.

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I give Midnight Dreary my thanks for helping me edit this chapter and giving me awesome advice on the characters and endless support! Go buddy! With that said, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.

Also, I've posted quite a bit of Transformers art/comics on my Deviant Art page if anyone is curious/bored. :)


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you for all of those who waited patiently for this chapter!! I assure it's the best so far, and the funniest. D Much credit goes to A Midnight Dreary for her expert editing skills and for allowing me the privelage to use her characters, LG and Daniel, and what characters they are. She pestered me to write more, and I can't thank her enough. Please, enjoy!

Transformers belongs not to me but to Has/Tak.

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**Chapter Six: Apprehensive Apologies**

Juniper's glorified hamburger specialty restaurant, named affectionately after the video game, **Burger Time,** was the local hotspot for hormonal teens who wanted a place to chill and hang out with friends away from the watchful eyes of the adults. In fact, ninety percent of the restaurant was run by said hormonal teens. Punks, jocks, preps, goths, emos, geeks, drop-outs, and all other levels of the high school caste system could be seen feasting on America's favorite fast food like a flock of ravenous vultures. It was still early afternoon when Sam and Kimana arrived. This meant only one thing; lunch rush.

_This place must be feeding the entire teenage population of this town. _Sam thought in wonder as he stepped inside onto the slightly sticky tiled floor.

Taking a look around, it appeared that all of the tables were taken and divided up by cliques or groups of friends, as if they were already well established territories. To his right there was a wide clearing around a table full of particularly sullen-looking football players that shot him a few nasty glances. Sam remembered hearing that Juniper's football team had been mysteriously stricken with some sort of rash that had yet to be identified, but it was said it involved pussy lesions, private areas, and was contagious by touch. That being the case, all the other football teams kindly rejected Juniper's challenges. Sam accepted the death glares with grace seeing as he always invoked the same disdain from anyone who was associated with that sport. He was one callused geek.

Kimana quickly scanned the area and pointed towards the back. He followed her through the maze of whispers and curious stares to find a wobbly table with two equally abused chairs next to a window looking over the parking lot. Sam heard a couple of girls giggle as he tried to sit in the unruly chair, teetering back and forth in defiance.

"So these burgers are good, right?" He hoped they were, for all the trouble he was going through just trying to sit still in his chair.

"Don't know." Kimana replied with a small shrug as she lowered her messenger bag next to her feet. "Haven't been in this place for some years. Last time I was here they were to die for."

"When was the last time you were here?" Sam inquired.

"Meh. About two or three years ago. Stopped coming after I graduated high school." she waved a hand towards the crowd of eyes staring at them. "Because that got annoying really fast, and nobody I knew came here anymore."

"Oh..." Sam shifted his eyes around them, hearing excited whispers from behind.

"Gossip was my school's way of life. They'd talk about anything and anyone so long as it had some sort of drama involved. Even if it was total crap." Kimana sighed as she leaned against the back of her chair, looking fairly annoyed. "Kids here don't have anything else better to do... And it doesn't appear to have changed much since then."

It wasn't until then that he noticed a change in her tone of voice, more than that, he thought to himself, a stark and undeniable change in her personality. Her once animated face had become hardened by an air of subtle annoyance and indifference, her violet eyes staring out the window without so much a glance at Sam as they talked. Then again, he wasn't very comfortable under the scrutiny he was receiving in that restaurant either, because it seemed like _everyone _was staring. Not even his school was that bad.

At that point, a waitress bounded over with two menus and such a cheerfully bright smile, it made a supernova look like a 15-watt lightbulb. On top of that, she had a wad of chewing gum between her teeth and was smacking on it obnoxiously loudly. Kimana's nose wrinkled in severe disgust as she viewed the waitress who was in possession of a rack the size of Cleveland. Sam, despite having a girlfriend, couldn't help but follow the progress of the waitress's chest as it bounced around.

"Welcome to Burger Time! I'm Kelly and I'll be your waitress today! What can I get you?" chirped the teenage waitress in an ever-so-cheerful voice, her peroxide blonde highlighted pigtails bouncing obnoxiously.

"Uh, hi. Let me see..." Sam ran his finger over the plastic menu. "I'll get the King Supreme Burger with a side of fries. And a chocolate milkshake to drink."

"Awesome! That's like, totally my favorite." Kelly whipped out a small notepad and wrote down the order, then turned to face Kimana. "And what will you have?"

"An ice tea with sugar, no lemon, to drink, and a bacon cheeseburger well done with extra pickles and ketchup. No onions. No mustard. No crap." Kimana replied in a flat tone as she handed her a menu she never even glanced at.

"Uhh...Hold on a just a sec..." the waitress furrowed her brows, attempting to scribble down the order as quickly as she could. "You know what you want, huh? You must've been a regular, back in your day."

Sam scooted his wobbly chair back a few inches. Those last four words the waitress spoke echoed in his mind, over and over like a death knell.

The artist's nonchalant gaze snapped into focus, and ever so slowly, came to rest on the waitress who was still writing the order down, completely oblivious. "Back in my day...?" Kimana replied in a carefully neutral tone, one brow arched.

"Yeah, you know, way back when the restaurant first opened, before they gave the meals special names and stuff." Kelly the waitress smiled obliviously. "Before they painted over those ugly pictures in the back room wall."

Sam watched something solidify behind Kimana's violet eyes, the kind of look when someone decides if they're going to rip someone's heart out or not. He'd rather have his hat, still flaming on top of his head, than have to get in-between an offended artist and the unsuspecting waitress.

"You mean before the staff was replaced with idiots who couldn't tell was real art was even if it shoved itself down their throats and laid eggs in their chests." replied Kimana, her tone as compassionate as cold metal.

The waitress stared back in utter confusion. "Why should those ugly pictures matter to you? You never worked here. I mean, they were just stupid robots..."

"I care because those ugly pictures of stupid robots were _**mine**_." Kimana stood up from her seat. "I painted them before the original owner died. He thought my art was great and wanted to show it off! He was one of the few people in this blasted town who actually respected me!"

"You mean that crazy man Mr. Gallagher who got himself sideswiped by a drunk driver or that even crazier geek who's actually got the deed to this place?" the waitress asked, a hand on her hip. Her voice had taken a decidedly snobbish tone.

Sam pushed away from the table as it shook under Kimana's tightening grip. He could almost smell electricity crackling in the air.

"I don't think having the respect of either of those nutjobs is something to brag about." the waitress said, putting her nose in the air. "Everyone knows that they're escaped mental patients who had the nerve to think that they could live here."

A lightbulb burst a few tables away. The teens sitting there yelped as the hot glass showered down on them. To be safe, Sam scooted back a few more inches.

"Don't you _**ever**_..." Kimana started, glowering at the bimbo. "SAY THAT ABOUT THEM AGAIN!!"

In the kitchen, someone screamed and there was a noisy clatter as a number of plates and cups and silverware went flying. The milkshake machine on the counter started spewing its dairy products across the patrons, all the while humming and shaking as though it was possessed.

There was a collective "meep" across the restaurant. Kelly was hiding behind her notepad. Sam was halfway under the table and Kimana looked nothing short of enraged.

"I'll just--" Kelly cleared the squeakiness out of her voice with much difficulty. "I'll just place your order now, okay?"

She was gone to the safety of the kitchen in a flash. When Kimana sat down – quite heavily and causing her chair to wobble precariously – Sam felt that it was safe enough to resume his seat. Flicking away a wad of dried chewing gum that had landed on his shoulder, he looked around the restaurant again and saw that more than half of the teenagers were making a mass exodus for the door. Several had been trampled and a few fat kids were actually stuck in the door frame.

_"Damn..." _Sam muttered to himself and thought it all probably would've been amusing if his heart hadn't lodged itself in his throat and nearly choked him. He turned his attention from the door back to Kimana. He really wasn't sure if it was entirely safe to talk to her just yet but his voice betrayed him and asked anyway. "Wh-what was that all about...?"

Kimana sat still for a moment, watching the fat kids squirm themselves free from the door, and answered Sam in a less bitter tone. "She made fun of my friends." her hand came to rest on one of her temples and rubbed it in a circular motion. "I don't allow anyone to make fun of them. Ever."

Sam nodded silently in response, gulping. He opened his notebook, a large crease folding it in the middle from his petrified grip, and began to write.

_May, 28, 2008._ _Note to self: artists are extremely sensitive and dangerous creatures. Particularly female artists. Particularly female artists named Kimana Clandestine. Caution must be advised at all costs_ _if one is to survive their wrath. Never show fear in front of them, and always keep a smile. _

_I, Samuel James Witwicky support this hypothesis_ _and_ _hereby commence the most perilous of my missions; an interview with an artist_ _known as Kimana. _

He cleared his throat after a moments silence, resting the notebook on the table now. "So these pictures in the backroom, was it your first commission?" A twinge of fear plucked at him, hoping he wasn't going to set off another round of explosions and scare away the few teens that didn't run for their lives. He looked back to see if his way to the door was clear, just in case.

"You are persistent, aren't you?" Kimana sighed quietly and leaned back in her creaking chair. She looked tired. Very tired. Sam assumed the excitement and yelling cost her most of her energy. "I guess if you really want to know, then yes. It was the first work that I was paid for, I was fifteen then. Mr. Gallagher was always trying to promote my art and so he let me do a mural back in break-room." She closed her eyes for a moment. "I miss him."

"I see..." Sam nodded as he wrote her response down, but decided it'd probably be best to avoid the not-currently-living-old-friend subject. "When did you start drawing? I mean, drawing seriously?"

"I guess since I was nine. That's when my teacher started praising me, and it gave me something else to do besides squirt glue on the bottom of the other kids' seats." she nearly smiled as she looked back at dusty school memories. "When I wasn't drawing I was something to be feared."

A quiet whimpering noise came from the kitchen. They turned to look at the source.

It was Kelly.

In a very peculiar, halting fashion, she walked towards their table with a tray of drinks clutched tightly in her white-knuckle grip. It looked more like she was taking her last steps on the gallows.

"Y-your...milkshake..."her shaky hand reached over towards the table, just close enough to sit it on the edge. Sam felt like he had turned into some deadly disease, and was named the Bubonic Plague.

"A-a-and...y-y-your...tea..." she barely whispered the word to Kimana through trembling lips. Slowly, inch by inch, her hand crept like molasses over to the artist who smiled a predatory grin that grew and gave no comfort Kelly. Her hand was almost there...

"**THANK YOU**." the artist boomed thunderously in the dead silence, frightening the already petrified waitress by her sudden outburst. Kimana caught her drink just before it fell off the edge of the table.

"Eeeeeeekkk!!" Kelly screeched like a bat from hell and flew back to the kitchen in a blur. The brave few that stayed behind in the restaurant watched her flight with wide eyes, sitting on the edges of their seats, and ready to follow suit to the nearby exit.

Sam wondered what he just got himself into.

A smug and satisfied air surrounded the artist as she lightly sipped her tea. "Yep," she drawled, "Looks like I still got it."

_"She's happy. This whole restaurant full of people cleared out in sheer terror of her and she's HAPPY. Sweet Jesus." _Sam stared in shock. _"Maybe it's in the Witwicky genes or your rugged good looks, but Sam, you find yourself in the weirdest situations...You survived the worst the Decepticons can throw at you only to end up being stuck with an artist that feeds on fear and eventually your soul. And even if I do survive this, I still gotta figure out the connection with the Allspark and said soul-sucking artist, __**before**_ _the Cons do." _The teen looked down at his notebook and wondered why God hated him so much that day. _"Save your grade Sam, you save the world."_

He picked up his pen, weighed down with hundreds of lives and the fate of his failing art grade, and began to write his next question.

"So Kimana, what inspires your lovely artwork?" he asked, aware that he was probably sucking up, but he figured that a little brown-nosing wouldn't hurt in the long run.

She set down her drink. "You'd be surprised."

"How so?" Sam pressed.

"Then again, maybe not so surprised. Most artists answer the same way." Kimana stirred the tea with a straw, the ice cubes clinking musically against the foggy glass. "At times, some artists will watch an event, come across a beautiful picture or see something very mundane and ordinary, and become instantly inspired by it. I, on the other hand, take ideas from my dreams. Or sometimes really vivid daydreams that hit me all at once." her stirring stopped as she took a pink package and poured more sweetener into the tea.

Sam took advantage of the pause and caught up writing down her response. It wasn't exactly what he was hoping for because it really didn't point him into any directions as to how she could paint Cybertron down to a T without having been there. But it was a start.

"So, who encourages your art. I mean, like your biggest fan?" Sam looked up from his notebook.

"BWAHA!" Kimana nearly spat out her tea, quickly drinking the rest in her mouth before it ended up on Sam.

"...?" he stared, waiting for her fit of laughter to pass.

It took her a few moments, but eventually she regained a 'normal' composure. "Heheh...well. There's one person in particular that comes to mind. He's uh, a total whack job and probably certifiably insane, but I love him anyways." a rather large grin spread across her face. "Not to mention my best friend. He's got this mech fetish and so he's always peeking over my shoulder when I'm painting something new."

"Does he have a name?" Sam asked curiously.

"Daniel Gregory Allan Robert Gallagher."

"Wow."

"Named for three uncles and a great grandfather. Yeah, he hates it too."

"I see..." Sam didn't write that down, but kept it in mind in case the question turned up again. "Is he an artist himself?"

"Stick figures, dots, basic geometric shapes." Kimana shrugged. "So, no. He's been looking into screen-writing lately. Any more questions?"

"Yeah, do you know when our food is going to get here?" Sam asked, rubbing his stomach as it let loose a tormented howl. "I'm starving!"

"Service was faster back when the place wasn't run by teenage idiots." Kimana muttered, knocking an ice cube to the bottom of the glass with her straw.

Not a minute later, one of the teens from the back approached their table with plates of food on a tray and set a scowl on Kimana. The artist glanced over him. Despite the scowl, his hands seemed to be trembling.

"Kelly has gone home for the night." the teen explained, carefully setting the tray down; Sam had to resist jumping on his burger right there. "I'll be your waiter for the rest of your lunch."

"Cheers." Kimana tilted her glass at the teen in a half-toast. The second the teen turned his back, Sam was all over the charred cow meat. The burger was halfway into his mouth before he remembered to breathe.

"Have you ever eaten before, kid?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, watching the massacre that unfolded upon his hamburger.

"Baa samm enmonen." he barely muttered past his mouthful of food.

Kimana grinned slightly as she dipped her french fry into a pool of ketchup, shaking her head. "Sorry, I don't speak full-mouthian. But uh, I'll take that as a yes."

Once Sam's tank was full and satisfied, he resumed the interview with redoubled vigor and determination. It was just the boost he needed. At least a good four pages were filled during the course of their lunch. So far, he had discovered she had lived in Juniper most of her life, and was taking art classes at the nearby college while being supported by her grandmother. She never talked about her parents much. Her dad seemed to be a blur in her early life. And as for her mother- well, he could see the pain in her voice when she refused to talk about her. More than likely, Sam concluded, that she wasn't around anymore. After that Kimana would only answer questions about her art.

He then allowed her to finish her meal, since he had inhaled it all before she could even finish off half of her hamburger, and took the opportunity to look over his notes. Sam patted himself on the back, knowing that his art teacher would _have_ to be satisfied with all of the information he collected.. On the other hand, his robot friends might not exactly care about brush stroke techniques or her favorite brands of paint. But there was nothing about her that stuck out saying 'HERE I AM, SECRET EVIL PERSON WITH CONNECTIONS TO AN EVEN MORE EVIL-ER ORGANIZATION WHO WANTS THE ALLSPARK'S POWER. UAHAHA!', or something along those lines. He knew that was Sector Seven. And they were gone.

Besides liking to scare the living slag out of people, Sam felt she was a 'normal' person, or at least, lived a fairly normal life. That's what she had said, anyway. He couldn't figure out the reason why her paintings were giving off weird energy signals to the Autobots, or if she caused the previous chaos in the restaurant.

His brain slammed itself against a metaphorical wall. "_We're gonna have to do some extra digging before we're gonna get anything out of this..._"

Kimana slurped the rest of her tea from the bottom of her glass. "Well I have to say it wasn't as good as the last time I was here but when you're half starving, even teenage-prepared meals don't taste half bad. I was expecting a few eyelashes or maybe a fingernail or two..."

"You almost look disappointed." Sam joked as he closed his notebook.

"I'd have physical evidence to charge them with,." she replied defensively, "so of course I'm a little disappointed."

He stared for a minute. "_She's totally serious. Ok, nix on the normalcy thing..._"

In that moment, a strange jingle emitted from Sam's pocket as it vibrated. He gave a high shriek and nearly tripped over his chair, bouncing a few times before he fished something out of his pocket.

"O-ohh! It's- hah- just my...cell phone see?" he waved it towards Kimana, attempting to regain some of his pride. "Silly me...thought I left it at home. Heh. I'll just uhhh...be in the men's room for a minute." Sam dashed like mad towards the bathroom, muttering to himself, "_In fact, I __**KNOW**__ I left it at home_..."

He hustled into the bathroom and hurriedly shut the stall door as the little phone hummed it's Lincoln Park ring tone "_...forgive me for what I've done..._". The caller's ID on the front screen on the phone said in electric blue letters 'Optimus'.

"Just WHAT do you think you're doing here?!" he whispered through his teeth, giving the cell phone his most intimidating glare. Atop his outstretched palm the phone whirred and shifted into a tiny, crab-like, transformer that apparently was not concerned in the least at Sam's fury. He swayed to the music and chirped cheerfully in response.

Such was their newest, and littlest addition to the Autobot Earth Forces. Sam christened him LG, after the logo on the back of the phone, for lack of creativity and thought after he had witnessed his own cell phone transform right in his hand. It had happened just one week after the incidents at Mission City, and Ratchet laid blame on the unsteady radiation seeped into Sam's hands from carrying the Allspark.

"You were supposed to stay home and watch Mojo! You know what he does when he takes his pills!" he pointed accusingly at the little bot. "If my bed is wet when I get home..."

"_Sam_?" beckoned a deep voice over the phone. LG decided to answer the call himself before the boy started in on a tirade. "_Sam are you there_?"

He gave LG a warning glare before he spoke. "Yeah I'm here Optimus."

"_Good. We've been waiting to hear the status on your inquiry. What have you discovered_?"

"That she's half crazy and delights in tormenting fearful souls. And probably eats them when no one's looking. Other than that, she's fine."

There was a brief moment of silence on Optimus' end. "_Excuse me_?"

"Things did get freaky when she started yelling though. Light bulbs exploding, the milkshake machine puking ice cream on everyone..."

"_So we saw. I was concerned and tried to contact you but our signals seemed to be jammed up until now. I think we can conclude it's not just the paintings giving us all of these unexplainable readings._" Optimus paused for a thoughtful moment. "_We will need to keep an eye on her._"

"Yeah. Too bad she's got a flight tomorrow at two 'o clock-"

"_What?! Well why didn't you tell us, boy?!_" Ironhide cut in. Sam winced at the volume.

"I-I didn't think of it at the moment, really. Sorry." He could hear Ironhide's curses in the background. "So what're we gonna do now? I mean, I could ask her where the flight is and one of you could track her, right? That shouldn't be too hard."

"_Yes. We could have Ironhide or Bumblebee track her." _Optimus muttered thoughtfully.

"_So long as she doesn't go overseas._" grunted a slightly irritable Ironhide. "_Subaquatic travel isn't exactly possible for us."_

Sam heaved a heavy sigh, staring down at the transformed cell phone, thinking of an alternative. If the flight is overseas then they'll have lost complete track of her since they were all honkin' huge vehicles, and if the flight was within the country it'd still take considerable time to reach her destination.

_"If only we had a way of using some beacon signal to keep tabs on her location. Something small, easily unnoticed, and..._" Sam's brain burst, screaming, "CELL PHONE-Y!!"

"_Cell phone-y...?_" asked a baffled Prime.

"Yes! Cell phone-y! We can just use LG! He can slip into her messenger bag and hang along for the ride while sending us feedback!" he squeaked excitedly. "Girls ALWAYS have some purse or bag with them."

Said mech jumped at his master's excitement, happy to be in on the Big Bot's operation, and to get away from Mojo duty.

"_It's settled then. LG will accompany the girl on her trip, informing us of her location as well as collect information._" Optimus commanded.

"_But you_ _better get your thrusters in full gear, boy, 'cause she looks like she's gettin' anxious to leave._" Ironhide warned.

"On it!" Sam was already on his way out of the stall and stuffed LG into his large pocket. In the cramped bathroom, he awkwardly made his way around a guy, right around his age, who stared at Sam in the reflection of the mirror as he finished washing his hands. Despite his master spending hours instructing LG when, and when not to make appearances, the little phone waved at the teen from the confines of Sam's pocket.

"AAHHHHHHHHH!!"

Kimana had just left the waiter a tip totaling up to one quarter and a Canadian penny on the sticky tabletop when some guy flew out of the men's room and vaulted the tables in his way to the exit. Shortly after, Sam emerged from the restroom looking rather peeved.

"Damn, kid." Kimana blinked. "Did I rub off on you? Or do I want to know what happened in there?"

"No...no you don't." Sam glared at his pocket, much to Kimana's confusion.

The rest of what was left of Burger Time's customers, deciding that their lives were more important than their hamburgers, quickly shuffled out the door and away from the strange duo that invoked terror and doom.

"Excuse me." The brave waiter that took over for Kelly approached them with a disapproving glare, crossing his arms. "I think it's time you two left. Before we have to call the cops. Or the asylum."

"We were just on our way." Kimana shot back a grin in defiance. "And I won't be forgetting what happened today. I've the memory of a super computer." she tapped her head with her index finger. "A really big one. Just let that Karly know that."

"It's Kelly." the waiter frowned.

"Exactly!" Kimana exclaimed, pressed her finger into the waiter's shoulder. "It's too insignificant for even my memory to hold."

The waiter's frown deepened as he silently pointed to the door. They grabbed their things and exited the restaurant obediently. But not before Kimana turned around in the doorframe, giving the waiter her most intimidating glare, and tapped her head with her finger.

Sam was only too glad to leave that place behind. They walked a few paces before Kimana stopped as they reached the cracked sidewalk, shielding her eyes from the hot rays of the sun.

"I didn't mean to drag you into that mess, kid. Didn't think that all that would happen." she wiped a strand of hair from her face. From the tone of her voice, Sam could tell she was genuinely sorry. "That's why I don't get out very often. Or at least, go to areas of dense humanity."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, it's not a problem. My school's football team has it out for me. Meaning no dances, homecomings, or walking by myself after school hours."

Kimana chuckled. "I remember what that was like. Well, I think it's time to be heading back to my tent. It's getting near closing time for me so," she held her hand up, fingers divided in the middle, "live long and prosper, kid."

He watched her cross the street and make her way back down to the tents. He thought for a moment, and blinked. "Uh, wait! Hold on!" Sam rushed over to the other side of the street. "Hey, I never did get to pay you back for that interview!"

She turned around with an arched brow. "I'm not interested in a date, if that's where this line of thought is going."

"Oh no, no, no." Sam waved frantically. "I've already got one. I mean uh, I got a girl. I mean-she's my girl. Girlfriend." Something in the annoyed gleam of her eye told him she was quickly losing patience. "Sorry. I was thinking since you're about to close I could help you out and give you a ride. You know, with my car."

"I should hope." she rolled her eyes. "Where is it?"

Sam scanned the nearby parking lots. "Let me see...Where did he go?"

"You mean, where did you park it?" Kimana corrected, worriedly.

"Haha- yeah. Silly me." he pretended to laugh. "I think it's...ah! Over there!"

Not far down the street was parked a bright yellow Camaro streaked with two black racing strips, resting under the shade of a cottonwood tree. Sleek, new, and screaming hundreds of thousands of dollars, it was more than enough to draw in the regular gawking crowd. Currently three men stood around it and apparently in deep discussion, looking over, around, and under the car. Their children ran around it, one tugging his father's pants and asking to get him one for his birthday.

Kimana's jaw dropped. "For the love of God and all that is holy, how on this great green Earth did you afford _**THAT**_."

"It was one of those sweepstakes thing, ya know. Woke up one morning, got the mail, and bam. I got the grand prize." Sam replied smoothly, having given that response hundreds of times to curious bystanders and kids at school.

"Well, I'll take your offer kid. Just for the chance to sit in it." she replied with reverent awe. "I feel like I should wash my hands before I touch it."

Sam knew deep down, Bumblebee was grinning tire to tire, and he enjoyed every minute of it. After answering a few curious questions from the crowd that gathered around it, Sam and Kimana got inside the 'car' and dropped by her tent. Together the two carefully loaded the artwork into the 'car', Kimana being more worried about the 'car' than her works, and made sure none of the canvases or frames bumped or scratched it's luxurious leather interior. For the next five minutes on their way to her house, it was nothing but constant praise and awe for the Camaro.

And all of the other Autobots could hear everything. Bumblebee made sure to keep his end of the comm link open for practical espionage matters, despite the fact that the only information they were receiving was over how 'hot' his features were, and many other compliments that would've made the robot blush if he could. And he knew he wasn't going to hear the end of it from Ironhide once all was said and done, even though it couldn't be helped. He was one sexy piece of machinery.

"So you said you lived out in the country area around here?" Sam mercifully asked to change the subject.

"Oh. Yeah." she caught her self stroking a bit of the dash and immediately pulled her hand back. "You just take a right here, then your next left and follow it for a few miles out. There'll be a few more country roads, and they're kinda long. But I like the privacy out there."

"I see." he replied. From the reaction the town had with her, and vice versa, he could understand why.

"Yeah. Again, thanks for the ride. Daniel is not gonna believe when I tell him-"

_**WHOOP WHOOP**_

"What was that?" Kimana whipped around in her seat to look behind.

_**WEEE-UUUU WEEE-UUUUU!**_

The teen's heart nearly stopped at the sound. Bumblebee's rearview mirrors confirmed his fears when he spotted the red and blue flashing lights zipping around cars and gaining deadly speed. Sam hadn't been speeding. And he hadn't broken any laws.

"Sam, you need to pull over. That cop is following _us._" Kimana advised in a mild tone.

"I know he is." Sam swallowed, sweat trickling down his forehead. "But that ain't a cop. And I wasn't speeding."

"No but...you WILL be breaking the law if you don't pull over. Listen, Sam, don't get me in trouble too. Just obey the nice police officer and see what he wants!" she stared nervously into the mirror, clutching tightly at her seat belt.

"We don't want to know what he wants, trust me!" he turned around completely in his seat to get a better look.. Said 'cop' was within feet behind them, right on their tail. "Bumblebee! Where's Optimus?! Aren't they following us?"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" the artist grabbed Sam by the shirt and yanked him forcefully back into his seat. "You're supposed to be driving!!"

_"Optimus is gaining behind us with Ironhide, approximately half a mile behind. I'll try to lose him as best I can! Hold on tight!!" _the car spoke over Kimana.

Bumblebee screeched around a tight turn, nearly missing a car in the opposite lane. The steering wheel straightened itself out and roared its powerful engine down the road.

She stared wide eyed at the unmanned steering wheel, then Sam, then the dash. "Oh my God..."

He looked back at her for a second to see that she was starting to hyperventilate. "It's ok Kimana, I can explain, I can explain, really..." he gibbered, trying to keep an eye on their new pursuer, watch for Optimus, give instructions to Bumblebee, and keep his own heart from jumping out of his chest.

"No...no,no...nononononono...I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry..." she shook her head violently, drawing away from Sam.

"Kimana, just listen to me, we're gonna be ok..." he placed a hand on her quivering shoulder. Once again, the Camaro took another tight turn, all by itself, and pushed it's own gas pedal.

Kimana hastily recovered from the being whipped around in the turn, looking about in a panic with bright purple eyes. Sam readied himself to catch her, fearing that she would pass out. But instead, did something he did not expect

"Oh my God..." she cried, holding her face. "I did it to your car...I did it to your car!! I'm so sorry!!"

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**FINALLY.** For those of you who've stuck with me on this story, I owe you thanks in the form of million dollar golden nuggets. College, work, art commissions, and administrating a TF RP forum devours one's time more than they like to admit. lol Oh, and stick sleep somewhere in there too. Many thanks to Midnight Dreary for the editting job and support. She's my buddy. In this chapter the action is finally starting to build and will only pick up from here on. Just like a rock rollin' down a hill, baby.

Transformers does not belong to me, but to HasTak. Sometimes I like to dream otherwise, though.

**Chapter Seven: Infiltration, Investigation and Iodine**

Sam knew he was stuck in between a rock and a hard place. Technically, a dash board and an angry Decepticon. The 'cop car' followed them right on their tails, and succeeded in ramming some nasty dents in the Camaro's bumper. Bumblebee put up a good chase, no doubt taking some moves from his stylish jazzy friend, but he could only do so much while he was in the town. Too many lives were at risk. Bumblebee had to get away from Juniper and into more open space without so many vulnerable bystanders.

And two humans were seated inside him. One his best friend, and the other an important clue to their mission in discovering the mystery behind the Allspark fragments. It was his sworn duty to keep them safe from all that might seek to harm them. But he couldn't keep them safe from each other.

Inside the Camaro was just as, if not more, chaotic.

"W-what? What? What?" Sam repeated again over and over in hopes to break the artist's mantra.

"I did it to your car!! I'm so sorry!... So sorry! I did it again!" she cried miserably over Sam's questions.

"Did what?!" he threw his arms out in frustration.

"You know...the thing--" she pointed vaguely in the dash's direction, "ZAP! And... And -- WHOOSH, and then VROOM!!" she explained, using her hands like little children do when they try to explain something beyond their grasp.

Sam frowned. Obviously doing things the nice way wasn't going to get an answer out of the artist. Firmly he grabbed her shoulders and tried to glare hard at her.

"Ok. What. Did. You. Do. To. My. Car." He enunciated every word in the most serious manner his squeaky teenager vocal cords would allow and did his best impression of Agent Simmons.

_**WHAM!! **_

To say the least, Sam's method worked. He had gotten her attention. And he got it so well that he had a busted jaw to prove it.

"Ow! Was that your foot?!" He cupped his chin in shock, wondering how she managed to whip her foot into a solid kick with a seat belt on.

"Sorry! Wicked reflexes!" She winced at looking upon the fresh new bruise that was blooming across his lip. Kimana was allergic to people. Touching, much less grabbing her in a forceful fashion, was something that never happened. Unless it was a friendly hug that was well announced before it was acted upon and even then she was excruciatingly picky of who had that right.

"_Hey! Easy you guys! Can't shake him off if you're all fighting!_" Bumblebee's scratchy plea echoed from his stereo, and added in a gentler tone, "_So just please sit down scary lady, and try to be nice to Sam._"

She froze still in her seat, silent as the grave. The car spoke again. And it spoke to _her._ In such situations, the human fight or flight instincts kick into overdrive and take over the front half of the brain. Carefully considering her options, Kimana quickly decided on flight.

But the Camaro was a step ahead of her. Just as she slapped her shaky hand on the door handle, the locks on all of the doors clicked firmly into place. In a desperate attempt she tried the window buttons but they also conveniently locked up. Trapped within a living cage and nowhere to go, she sank back in her seat with her arms folded up to her chest and gave Sam a look that clearly said, 'We are all going to die.'

"_Well there's no hiding it now..._"Bee mumbled as he straightened himself from another skidding turn and miraculously avoiding other cars. "_So you might as well get to know your new best friends. You've already met one of them, Sam there. And you can just call me Bumblebee._"

"We're here to save you." Sam spoke in a semi-heroic voice and attempting to flash a cheesy grin in the process. But it didn't work out quite the way he wanted since his lower lip was now a singular purple bruise. It just looked kinda gross.

"Save me from what...?" She scooted further into her seat and nodded at the dash, "From him? From you?" Kimana wondered if she ticked off the waitress enough for her to slip some hallucinogen into her tea. "From me...?"

As if to answer her question, Barricade greeted them like a freight train, crashing hard into the Autobot's bumper and sent them whipping forward painfully into their seatbelts. Scattered prints flew up from the back seat with such force that they threatened a few wicked paper cuts. The two hastily scooted back into their seats and rubbed at the marks the seatbelts left on them..

Sam jerked a thumb behind them. "No. We're saving you from _that_."

"Huahahaha! Autobot! You have seen the last of your days!" the Decepticon cried in his relentless pursuit. "Pain and fear will be the only companions at your side in your final moments. And I will reclaim my honor!"

"_You scrap for brains, did you not listen? You're to terrorize them, not kill._"a particularly bitter Starscream sneered over the link. "_The girl is inside your prey and we can't have you squishing the flesh creature inside that metal can. Do you understand? Besides, you've got the big bots on your tail._"

"What?!" Barricade ceased his attacks, letting a little more fear creep into his voice than he intended. He really hated it when his bloodoil-lust hazed out such useful details. "Frenzy! You were supposed to keep watch! Why did you not inform- ...oh" He looked to find the little 'watch guard' slumped over his seatbelt in what looked like recharge or some form of pain-induced unconsciousness. Barricade forgot about the static incident. He wondered why it had gotten so quiet...

"_Oh, and you might want to hurry. They look rather angry. I've heard they don't like it when the yellow one gets picked on._"

Barricade could nearly hear his commander smirk as he lazily watched over his peril. He'd make sure to give Starscream a piece of his mind, or more like a face full of steel, once he removed himself from the Autobot's firing range. With one last _ker-runch _into the Camaro's bumper, he let off the gas and spotted a nice side road that would make for a quick exit.

"No you don't there, Decepti-creep. 'Ol Ironhide's been twitchin' for some fun." The shamelessly enormous Topkick sped up next to Barricade and chuckled, "Ain't that right Optimus?"

**HRRRNNNN! HRRRNNNN!**, the semi answered on the con's other side, nearly scaring the spark out of him. Nothing is as intimidating as being two feet away from tons of mobile steel and power moving at high speeds. Especially when the tons of mobile steel and power is ANGRY.

"Picking on the mini-bot was a bad mistake. Ironhide, it's time to teach this 'Con some manners."

"Couldn't have put it better myself, Optimus." the Topkick answered.

Before Barricade had a chance to accelerate, the two monstrous vehicles closed in on him from both sides and sandwiched the cop car. Hot sparks burst from his exterior as the metal scrapped along his sides and dented inwards. Neither relented in their attack. He couldn't get away. As they pressed closer the windows started to crack from the bottom and snaked upwards. He was going to be crushed. The tires squealed beneath the pressure of their unyielding vengeance. He was going to die.

"STARSCREAM!! HELP ME!" Barricade cried feebly, fear entangling his voice into a hollow lump in his vocalizer. "D-don't leave me like this!" His left tire burst from the pressure. "I beg you!!"

"_But I thought you wanted to have your 'fun'? I suppose it was all too much for you, then?_"the seeker lazily responded. He liked it when we was right about things. Especially when someone learned it the hard way.

"I didn't mean for this to happen! I was wrong!" his windshield collapsed inwards in a rain of shattered glass. "STARSCREAM!"

Silently the Air Commander watched the Decepticon's peril unfold without remorse or pity. He had all the time in the world, at least, that's what he wanted Barricade to think. Let the slagger eat a healthy dose of pain to teach him. Starscream wanted to iron out any rebellious streaks the first chance he got. And there was nothing like shoving loyalty down one's throat than to hang them from a cliff and watch them dangle. The trick was to wait for them to slip a little, just enough to let desperation set in as they cling to the last few inches of the rope. In those brief seconds was when the real lesson was learned. Starscream knew this because the same thing had happened to him once a long time ago at the beginning of the war. Now he wielded it against another using the exact same words.

"_Do you swear your undying loyalty to me?_" the seeker spoke quietly, coldly.

"Yes Starscream!! Please!" Barricade screamed over the crushing devastation that wrecked upon his body. "I swear!!"

"_Do you sever the ties to the past that chain you?_"

"Agghh! Me-Megatron is dead! And I-- I am your soldier now! Lord Starscream, I beg of you!! Help me!"

"_Then remember this day. And never speak his name again._"

Two rounds screeched downwards and landed before the Autobots, sending chunks of asphalt flying past. It was enough to slow them down and force them to steer away to avoid the gaping holes in the road. Making good use of the escape opportunity, Barricade raced off with the last of his strength and the shredded remains of his dignity.

"Warning shots!" Ironhide cried, remembering that the skies were occupied with unfriendly eyes. "Hate to admit it but Starscream wouldn't have missed us otherwise. Well let the fragger go." He spat the words of defeat, watching Barricade make his escape. "The only damage he can cause now is in his recharge while he's in a recovery bunker."

Optimus followed suit with Ironhide and slowed down, keeping his attention to the sky. "For Starscream, that was a considerably charitable move. And I see that he's not alone. Thundercracker and Skywarp seem to have been near this solar system and picked up his signal."

Ironhide grunted in response. All three seekers arced upwards and disappeared into the summer sky and out of sight. The two Autobots drove silently for the next few minutes as they caught up with Bumblebee. The old veteran wasn't about to make note of the hidden touch of envy in his leader's words at how the Decepticons' signals were answered. And he wasn't about to admit that he felt the same way either.

_Meanwhile a few miles down the road..._

"Is... is the police car from hell gone?"

"He just got sandwiched by two vehicles ten times his size. I don't think he even has his windshield wipers right now."

Sam turned from watching the 'Con bashing in the back window and slid into his seat with a long sigh. He winced briefly. His bottom lip was swelling nicely which made talking awkward and painful. And God, he wasn't extraordinarily picky about his appearance but the sight of his chin and the bruise that grew from it onto his mouth was hideous. With a capital H.

Kimana noticed that rather quickly.

"Eww... Uh, I mean, I really do apologize for that. Didn't mean to uh, hit you so hard." she brushed at her nose, embarrassed. "You know, I got some ice at home that might help with the swelling. And some bandages if you want to keep that covered..."

"My house is right there." Kimana quickly changed the subject after seeing the look on Sam's face. She pointed up to a wooded hill, the roof of the house was scarcely visible underneath the boughs and leaves of the cottonwood trees. "Do you hear that, Mr. Camaro? I live over there." she repeatedly poked her finger in the house's direction. "Right there..."

"_The name's Bumblebee, remember?_"he corrected with a pinch of annoyance. "_And you can stop printing up my windows. I can see where it is._"

Lightning fast, she retracted her finger from the glass as if it were corrosive. Something about the idea of talking vehicles still frightened her greatly.

"Don't worry, Bee doesn't bite. In fact he's the baby of the group." Sam joked in hopes of relieving her of the 'meep' expression.

He did the exact reverse. "He's the baby?" Her brows rose in alarm, even more so at the following thought. "Of the group? You mean there's more than one? How many are there?!" She whipped her head around as if they were going to spring out at her from the trees or the backseat.

"Well before I answer that question, Kimana, I'd like to ask you something." His hands met and formed a steeple, and asked, "What exactly did you mean by, 'I'm sorry, I did it to your car. I'm so sorry, I did it again.'?"

The cat was out of the bag. Sam decided that there was nothing to lose and played his hand openly. She knew about Bumblebee now, that she was being hunted, and that she had slipped up. Sam watched the muscles in her jaw clench, an outward sign of an inward battle of whether or not she should tell the truth to this kid. And with the severe lack of extroverted qualities it would be a small scale war for her just to give someone her middle name, much less obtain free knowledge of her connection to the AllSpark radiation in the paintings.

"_We're here._"the Autobot announced. His tires crunched under the gravel driveway and eased into part in the cool shade. The doors clicked and were unlocked.

Both Camaro and boy held their breath, waited, hoped, doubted. Kimana's eyes flicked to the door twice, licking her lips, anxious. Freedom was only a car door away. She could then run inside her house and lock the doors and call the appropriate authorities to track them down. It would be the smart thing to do. It would be the proper thing to do. Anyone else would do it that way.

But not this chick.

Besides, she busted his lip after he offered her a ride home. And that would just be plain rude.

She sighed and looked rather distant, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Alright kid. But first, let's go inside and get you some ice. You look like you got kissed by a horse's foot."

Sam started to smile, happy that she was going along peacefully, but it turned upside down at her last comment. "Hey," he flinched. "You calling yourself a horse then?"

Her response was a quiet, and slightly wicked sounding string of laughter. Kimana turned to grab her prints from the backseat and handed some to Sam. "I guess I deserved that."

Sam grinned and took the prints under his arm.

The two then proceeded to unload the rest of the artwork from the Camaro and entered the artist's house. It wasn't one of the newer, mass-produced models that had nearly dominated the nation's suburbs, but nothing from the far past either. Sam could spot flaws here and there in the design, especially in the nearly lopsided roof. Along the porch, some nails weren't hammered in correctly, and the white paint on the porch was peeling off near the edge. It wasn't beautiful. Instead, it possessed a comfortable feel, like a favorite old pair of worn sneakers that carried many memories.

Sam followed her inside. The artist gave one last look outside and locked the wooden storm door, keeping the big one open to allow a breeze through. He paused to pull his dusty shoes off and take a look around him.

_I have now infiltrated the suspect's lair. _He thought to himself. _It is not what I expected, rather quaint and... homey. But I can't let that fool me. Not at this crucial moment. Besides, this has been all too easy... _Sam assured himself that if he expected booby-traps from the beginning, then they would effectively be less harmful when they sprung. Albeit, Sam was taking comfort in the espionage experience he had gained from watching James Bond movies. If that counts at all.

He saw that it was a smaller two story house, easy to keep tidy for one or two people. The windows didn't let in much light from underneath the trees' shade, but the interior was painted with bright creams and light blues to balance things out. To his left looked like a rarely used dining room with an old grandfather clock on the far wall. Dusty family photos surrounded a vase of imitation flowers that occupied the dining table. To his right, down along the hall was the entrance to the kitchen, and further down sat the living room and another hallway that veered off to the left out of his sight. Probably where the bodies were stored, he thought.

"Go ahead and leave those prints on the table there. I'll get them in a bit." Kimana slid out of her shoes. "In the meantime I'm gonna get you some ice, so just sit tight in the living room."

"Right-o," he saluted and did as he was told.

_Just as I suspected. She's going to spring the trap in the living room while she hides in safety in the kitchen. Clever. But a Witwicky doesn't go down that easy!_

He entered the room with much caution, but tried to downplay it with a nonchalant air. A comfortable, green chair beckoned hisnameand he sank right into it, after he inspected the area of course. But as he sat down he felt a rather large bump underneath the cushion that threatened his hind quarters.

"WAH! BOOBY-TRAP!!" Sam screamed. He leaped up from the chair and looked around the room like a mad person in Tourette's mode. No explosions, no laser beams, and disappointingly, no ninjas with dart guns.

"What's wrong kid? You break something? And what're you screaming about boobs for..." she asked from the kitchen. "If you're some kind of pervert, I'll kick your ass!"

"Uhhh -- ahh, no! No I'm not. I'm a good guy. Don't worry about me. Heh." Sam grimaced at the chair.

Taking his chances, he dug his hand underneath the cushion of the chair and unearthed a very large, and very ancient looking remote control. "This is it...? Well, it's got to be for the Model T of all televisions." he looked about the room for the gargantuan TV. There were marks on the wooden floor where something monstrous had once sat. He assumed it was the TV he was looking for, since it would have sat against the wall and all of the chairs in the room were facing it.

In fact, there was nothing electronic in the room. No fans, no lamps, no radios, no phones. Nothing.

"Oh my God," Sam whispered to himself. "I've entered the Twilight Zone."

From the kitchen sounded a strange '_chink-chink-chink'_ noise, much like something being chipped away. He also noted that it was 'chinking' away in the same beat of the psycho music when the dagger is being lifted above the shower.

"She's not going to use booby-traps..." His eyes widened in panic. "She invited me inside her house so she could kill me herself! And now it's too late!"

"What the hell are you talking about Sam?" Kimana appeared from behind him, her tone flat. She held a knife to her side. But he didn't notice she held a bowl of ice and bandages in the other.

"OH GOD NO! Please, I'm too young to die!" Sam's eyes bulged while he backed away from her, trying to get as far away from the knife as possible.

"What? What?" She looked around in honest confusion, and then down at her hand, the source of Sam's panic. "Oh. You mean this?" Kimana waved the knife in the air, Sam's eyes following it's every movement. "Don't be such a dork. I used it to chop up the ice. You know, to help stop the swelling on your chin."

"So you mean I don't know too much?"

"What are you talking about? I don't have a regular fridge so I've gotta use this--" She lifted the knife up, and Sam nearly jumped three feet. "To get the ice chopped up."

"W-what, like some icebox or something?"

"Pretty much. I don't have many electric appliances around here if you haven't noticed. More like, I can't have them." she shrugged. Kimana sat down and pulled up a footstool to sit the ice bowl and bandages on.

Sam didn't respond. Honestly he wasn't sure _how _to respond. What if she was just trying to lure him into another trap and make him drop his defenses...?

"Just sit." The artist pulled his arm down toward the nearby chair, shaking her head in frustration. "Damn you're hyper, you know that?"

Sam decided to oblige, not wanting to further irritate the woman who still held a knife. Before he knew it Kimana had already started cleaning the bit of blood that had dried on his chin. She worked fast and effectively, as if his face was just another one of her canvases.

"Now hold still. I use iodine." The bottle tipped in her hand, and its rusty orange fluids seeped into a large cotton ball.

"W-what?! But that stuff stings!"

"I said don't move! Or I'll put it in your eyes! I mean it!"

"But not even my grandma uses that stuff anymore! And it'll dye my skin!" He pushed her hands away futilely.

"It'll dye your eyes soon if you keep fighting me!" Her right hand held the cotton-ball of iodine doom in the air threateningly while her lower eye lid started to twitch. "Now. Let. Me. Work."

Sam had seen that same petrifying glare before from a certain Autobot medic while deep in his work and dangerously irritated when disrupted. So Sam quickly learned and shut up. Not a minute later she was finished and he was now brandishing a snazzy Batman band-aid over his chin.

"Uh thanks...Kimana." He gingerly touched his chin upon inspection and placed the bag of chipped ice to it.

"It was my fault so you don't need to thank me." She tossed the cotton balls and wrappers into the bowl, carefully avoiding his gaze. Glancing down the hallway and through the screen door she saw the Camaro was closer to the house now than it was when they left it. "This whole mess was probably started thanks to me."

He lifted his head at the odd note that hardened her voice. Sam smelled guilt. Guilt and hopefully some information that might be conductive to his investigation.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, knowing the line of conversation might lead him, and the Autobots, to some much needed answers.

_Meanwhile outside... _

"I can't hear, Bumblebee. Turn up your channel's audio levels." Ironhide grunted from the side of the road, still in his alt mode. A worrisome Optimus was parked behind him, tuning in to the same frequency.

"I'm trying to, just give me a nano-click. Primus. It's not easy when you've got this ocean of static trying to plug your channels." Bee readjusted his dials in hopes of getting a better reception from the house. "It's enough to make my system shudder--"

"Shhhh Bee! I think I can hear 'em..." the veteran cut in, listening carefully with his audios on max.

"_Why do you say that?_"The group heard Sam's voice on the channel and gave a silent cheer at their success.

"_Well you see I had this T.V. once._"Kimana responded. "_Until I got at mad it for showing two hours of an Oprah marathon instead of Animaniacs, my favorite show when I was twelve. And when I get angry, electronic things don't respond very well._"

"This girl scares me... When will we be able to go back to the base Optimus?" Bumblebee asked with a much hope he could muster.

"Shhhh. We need to hear what she says. Or else this whole thing would have been for nothing." Prime stated simply. "Sorry Bumblebee."

The Camaro attempted to hide the shiver that worked its way through his engine and concentrate on listening.

"_So like, what, you busted it up?_"they heard Sam ask.

"_No. I-- well, yes. Yes I did bust it up._"_ she paused. _"_AFTER it came to life and nearly destroyed the house._"

"_So you mean... it just started moving on its own?_"he asked slowly, trying to fully understand her.

"_Yes, Mister-I-have-a-talking-car-sitting-out-in-my-driveway! It somehow...transformed and turned into a more or less two legged, antenna-wielding robot that blared Oprah in a semi-violent way._"

"What's an Oprah?" Ironhide couldn't help but ask himself.

"Shhhhh!!" Optimus and Bee simultaneously responded.

"_I chased it off with a baseball bat. And I still think it lives somewhere in the woods back behind my house because sometimes I hear Jay Leno and Conan O'Brian and other late night talk show hosts when I'm trying to sleep. It's really freakin' annoying. But the point is,_"Her voice dropped low as she leaned over Sam, "_There's something not right with me and ever since the news coverage over Mission city I knew this day was gonna come._"

"_Y-you mean you knew about me and Bumblebee?_"he asked, trying to conceal his surprise. "_I didn't know the news covered us THAT closely... But then I should have guessed we'd attract some paparazzi._"

"_No. It has nothing to do with the news or the soul-sucking paparazzi!_"the Autobots nearly flinched at the volume of her voice.

Kimana's frustration only grew with each second until she found herself talking and even then she couldn't believe the words that she was saying. "_I didn't know who, and I didn't know when but I just knew that I was gonna be found_ _by one of their kind. Look I've kept this to myself all my life and I barely know you, so this isn't exactly easy. Since I can remember I've been able to bring machines to life when I'm angry or scared, just like with my T.V. Except ten times out of ten they just go nuts and someone gets mauled. That's why I've cut myself off from the world, _

_that's why I don't have anything electronic, and that's why I didn't crap my pants and die when your car started_ _talking!_"

Sam blinked at the sudden release of emotion and anger, like a victim caught in an unexpected tidal wave. Kimana took a minute to control her breathing. She knew she had to get it out if they were going to make any progress in the situation that was growing more dangerous by the second. Of course she didn't have any idea of just what was watching her, but she wasn't born yesterday. 'Powers', if she could call them that, would get noticed by something surely. And after Mission City, she knew it was only a matter of time.

The Autobots didn't dare speak. Their thoughts were too enmeshed with a new slew of questions that bombarded their processors. Though all knew they were right in following up on the AllSpark radiation readings. They had definitely found something.

"_And it's not just bringing them to life._"She slumped into a comfortable looking chair, and propped her hand against her chin. "_I've seen them before. The robots that fought in Mission City. Not them specifically, but their kind. Their race._"Her gaze turned to look outside the window at the Camaro, who tried very, very, hard not to flinch.

"_W-where did you see more? Did they look really scary and have big guns and red eyes?_" Sam was literally on the edge of his seat and hoped to God she wasn't talking about more Decepticons. So did the Autobots.

"_Yeah, I've seen them._" she said, as all listeners gasped, and some wanted to reach for their artillery and pointed just where to go. "_But not around here. They're up here._" Kimana pointed to her head. "_The good ones too._"

For a long moment Sam sat there with his mouth agape. "_But how? That doesn't even make any sense!_"

Kimana made a simple gesture for her response and pointed to a painting on the wall behind him. Bumblebee took note and tried to zoom his optics in on just what it was. Upon focusing in it turned out to be a detailed painting of a mech standing on the outskirts of what looked like one of Cybertron's cities. Upon Optimus and Ironhide's urges he zoomed in even closer to find that it was a picture of a mech that looked a heck of a lot like Sentinel Prime. Almost disturbingly so.

"_Don't wet your pants kid, yeesh. I don't know how else to explain it. I've always seen them in my head. And it only got worse as I got older. I think I would go crazy if I didn't put them down to paper. Or canvas._"Kimana said with a bittersweet smile. "_Probably thanks to that damn Cube..._"

"_WHOA!_"Sam exploded from his seat. "_WHOA. WHOA. WHOA. How do __**you **__know about the Cube?! That's been under super top secret orders that even the president didn't even know about!_"

Kimana smugly grinned from ear to ear. "_Then I guess I could ask you that same question. But I'm just gonna take a wild guess and say you've got more going on than just high school and homework. It's your turn to spill the beans._"

"Optimus! Can we just let her find out about us? We don't even know if she can be trusted!" Ironhide cut in quickly. "We shouldn't just let him tell her everything, it's too dangerous right now!" He began to transform in his desperation.

"Wait Ironhide! We must trust Sam and let him explain." The Autobot leader's commanding voice stopped him. Many doubts filled him, and this girl unnerved him more than he would admit, but he couldn't let the all too fragile plan fall apart. "She has revealed some things to us, and so it is our turn to do the same. Just wait, my old friend. Wait."

Sam didn't have a clue where to begin. He took a deep breath and made a valiant effort to rummage through his memories and find a starting point. The past few months where nothing short of chaotic, deadly, and all kinds of 'what was I thinking?'. Looking back in hindsight really made him question whether he was going to live to see his last few teenage years, and if it was going to make him sound very sane.

He looked back at Kimana and realized who he was talking to. If she thought he was crazy then he really was destined for the nut house.

"_It all started when I went to go buy my first car._"He nodded back to Bumblebee outside. Sam then took a deep breath. "_Turned out he was actually a part of an alien robot faction, the Autobots. They're the good guys in this. They needed my great-great grandfather's glasses because they were imprinted with a code. He had been exploring the Arctic circle back in his day and came across the leader of the Decepticons, known as Megatron. But fortunately he was unconscious in the ice. Anyway, the code led to this cube which is what they call the AllSpark, and is the source of all life. Er-robot life I mean. Megatron's cronies found his location, released him and tried to take the AllSpark from us to transform all of Earth's technology into his own army to take over the world. But we defeated him and now his remaining followers are hanging around and probably want revenge. Or something like that._"

Kimana blinked a few times. And blinked some more. "_Well damn. That actually made sense._"

In response he gave a sigh of huge relief. Especially since he wasn't going to have to repeat himself again. "_Yeah. I'm glad you do. If someone like you thought I was crazy then..._"

"_WHAT do you mean by that?_" Her two violet eyes nearly bore a hole through his head.

"_N-n-never mind! Sorry!_"He deflected a well-aimed pillow that would have smacked him dead in the face. "_Just let me get to the point of all this, please!_"Sam begged in frustration.

Reluctantly Kimana let go of another pillow and gave him her attention. Her fingers tapped the arm of the chair with impatience.

"_Look, Kimana, you're in a lot of danger here. Your paintings we found online somehow show radiation levels from the AllSpark and now the Decepticons know. They've already tried to make a move today, and if we weren't there to stop them...who knows what could have happened to you. So we need to know. About you, about your paintings, everything._" He spoke honestly, and the genuine concern was obvious in his tone. "_We might be the only ones who __**can **__help you._"

Somewhere deep down that thought unsettled her greatly. Hadn't the chaos from earlier been enough already? When she woke up, her greatest concerns were making a decent profit from selling prints and doing commissions, but now... Now she had to worry about evil cop cars and alien robots.

"_Maybe I should have moved to the Alps and become a hermit to live out the rest of my days in mind-numbing peace. I could live off goat cheese. I always wanted a pet goat anyway..._"She groaned and let her face sink into the pillow laid out on her lap. Sam let her sit like that for a moment, unsure of whether to comfort her or let her be.

"What did I tell you Ironhide? Sam was able to handle it well, despite her... unpredictable nature. It is going better than I had hoped." Prime smiled internally and knew that Ironhide would have to agree. Their attempt at positive human relations rarely ever ended on any note that could be considered 'positive', but today they seemed to have some chance of success.

"You know it's not easy for me Optimus. Humans make me nervous. You never know if you're gonna step on one and they're fragile and primitive and they smell funny..."

"They're not THAT bad." Bumblebee cut in sharply. "You just don't like it how the captain's baby spilled its internal digestive fluids all over your interior that one day."

"Do you have any idea how much that stains?!" the veteran shot back, quickly growing irritated. "It took six attempts with several kinds of soap to get that out! And I still smelled like vomit for a week!"

"Shhh, you two, someone's coming down the road." Optimus warned.

Sure enough, a dust trail led by one of the damn ugliest cars that Ironhide had ever seen -- a blue station wagon with fake wood side panels -- headed down their road and speeding five miles over the posted limit. While the Autobots were thinking thoughts of inconspicuousness and of blending in with the greenery around them, they waited for the car to drive on past, but it did not. Instead it pulled directly into Kimana's driveway, right behind Bumblebee.

Proverbial necks craned as the Autobots tried to get a good look at the driver getting out of the front seat. Bumblebee especially tried to make sure there was no potential threat as he silently willed Sam to get out of the house.

The driver was a young man, early to mid twenties at the most, fairly tall as humans went, and a face framed by slightly shaggy shoulder-length hair. The length of hair caused Ironhide to do a double-take, briefly mistaking the young man for a young woman. He didn't think human males wore their hair that long.

The young man was moving slowly, taking care to shut the car door as quietly as possible. He walked with the ease of someone accustomed to sneaking around and strode a suspicious circle around Bumblebee.

The Autobots held their breath.

--


End file.
